


Forgive Me

by silverneko9lives0



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Bottom Thorin, Fix-It, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, intersex dwarves, magical intersex, marriage problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-03-09 01:43:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 33,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3231536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverneko9lives0/pseuds/silverneko9lives0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I was certain this would work, but I was wrong. Don’t think I don’t love you. I do. But I can’t stay. I don’t feel like I really have you anymore. I love you. Goodbye.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

> _Thorin,_
> 
> _By the time you get this, you’ll know I am gone. You don’t seem capable to balance work with family, so I suppose if I’m not here, you won’t have to concern yourself with trying._
> 
> _To be honest, I truly believed after the battle of the five armies that I could forgive you for anything and everything. But I’m tired of waiting for you to decide. I had hoped you’d be here, that you’d prove to me that I was wrong and that we could fix this. But as much as I love you, you seem to love Erebor more._
> 
> _You always loved Erebor more and I’m not going to pretend that I’m all right with that anymore. I truly believed I could do this. I was certain this would work, but I was wrong._
> 
> _Don’t think I don’t love you. I do. But I can’t stay. I don’t feel like I really have you anymore._
> 
> _I love you._
> 
> _Bilbo_

Rain pattered outside the cave he’d taken shelter in, storm raging in the night and only this letter to keep him going. Thorin folded the letter and set it in his breast pocket. He leaned against the rock and stared at the raindrops, wondering how close to midsummer it was or if midsummer had already passed while he was traveling over the mountains.

He straightened his back and leaned over the fire (above which he managed to find a way to spit roast a rabbit he had caught that morning as an alternative to the cram he’d been forced to eat since he ran out of dried meats…fourteen days ago? Or was it twenty?), poking embers with a stick. In the corner, his pony, Labamrazkh, slept, ignoring the rain outside.

He wondered if he’d be able to catch up to Bilbo at all. He had expected to do so earlier since Bilbo had only a three day’s head start. He wasn’t fool enough to abandon the kingdom. He had faith in Fili’s judgment. But the more time passed, the more he realized it would’ve been more prudent to just abdicate the throne to Fili instead.

He had a year’s deadline and while he _knew_ a year had not yet passed, it certainly looked bleaker that he’d ever find Bilbo before reaching the Shire. (Where else would he go? He loved his motherland as much as Thorin loved his.)

Thorin pulled the stick out and pulled the rabbit he had been cooking over it off, sniffing it to make sure it was cooked thoroughly enough for consumption. Deciding it was okay, he bit into the steaming meat and tried not to think of _how_ in creation he had lost his husband.

More importantly, Bilbo was so very wrong. Thorin admitted he had fucked up. He had been swamped being king and being the kind of Dwarf who was used to burying himself in work, the habit ended up being rather hard to break after the mountain was reclaimed.

He did try. He always joined Bilbo at breakfast (which he usually hurried with, grabbing a piece of toast or a scone, pecked Bilbo’s cheek, and ran out the door) and he made sure to go to bed (usually collapsing on the pillow from exhaustion and falling asleep instantly, face pressed against Bilbo’s neck and arms around his waist).

At the time, he didn’t think anything wrong until he collapsed on the bed one night three months ago (or was it four?) and slung his arm over where Bilbo’s waist would be, only to find that his husband was not there. Thorin patted the clearly empty bed, save for himself, until coming across the letter. At first, he’d been furious and ordered Erebor to be searched top to bottom.

Once clear that Bilbo was not in Erebor anymore—even his beloved pony Myrtle (the second) was gone—he sent word to Dale and Bard had the city searched as well as Laketown. While that happened, he asked if everything was all right between them. Thorin had said it was, but Bard frowned and sat down beside him.

_“He wouldn’t have left this way if everything was all right. He felt he needed to leave. So I will ask again, is everything all right? Did you spend time with him? Did you make sure he knew how much you cherished him?”_

_“He had all of Erebor at his disposal!”_

_“That isn’t the same, Thorin,” Bard said. “Running a kingdom takes work, but so does marriage.”_

_“You think I don’t know this?!”_

_“I think you do, but I also think where you’ve succeeded in the rebuilding of Erebor, you have neglected your marriage.”_

At the time, he’d been too furious to admit it. But later, when the anger had ebbed away, he read the letter again and found himself loathing to admit that Bard had been right. Balin had the guards look through Erebor again, but Thorin reminded him of Bilbo’s Ring and there was also the question of whether he was even _in_ the mountain. His pony was missing too, after all.

The morning after, he made quick arrangements to have Fili run things, with Balin’s aid, while he went searching. Dwalin had insisted on coming with him, but Thorin told him to stay. When he found Bilbo, he didn’t want any witnesses for whatever words would be had between them. And he didn’t want what happened to him to happen to Dwalin and Ori.

Not that he thought it could. Compared to how he treated Bilbo, Dwalin was nothing short than the ideal husband to Ori! Perhaps it had to do with having less work to do than Thorin or perhaps he was just _better_ at managing his time.

He needed to know why Bilbo didn’t try to talk to him. He needed to know why he just gave up. As more time passed, Thorin concluded that Bilbo probably did try, but Thorin had been too inattentive. He knew he’d still ask, but a part of him already knew the answer.

He finished eating and wrapped his blanket around him, listening to the rain again and mumbling a prayer to Mahal before trying to sleep…

#

Thorin woke to pain and clutched his stomach, gasping for air.

“Get him up!” someone ordered. Thorin’s hair was seized and he was yanked to his feet; a dagger was pressed to his throat. His shelter was overrun by Men who wore masks and were tearing through his things. Bandits, likely. Six honorless vagrants, including the one holding him down.

“Not much food here,” the third said. “Just bits of cram.”

“Better cram than nothin’, you know,” another said, he found Thorin’s purse and weighed it. “Look here, lads! Quite a bit of coin for a wandering Dwarf.”

The fifth was handling Orcrist. “He’s a warrior, this Dwarf. Look at this.”

“Oh, he is no ordinary Dwarf, lads,” the leader chuckled, taking the sword and unsheathing it. “Methinks we’ve found a Dwarf _King_. This is the famed blade of Thorin Oakenshield, it is.”

“So either we’ve got the king or a fellow thief.”

“It’s unlikely anyone would have the gall to steal from that king under his nose in his own home,” the leader sneered. “So methinks we’ve got the real king here. He’d fetch a handsome price, would he not?” Thorin glared at him and his lip curled into a snarl.

“I’d bind him,” one of them suggested. “Tie his things to the pony and we go send the ransom to Erebor. What you think?”

The leader clicked his tongue. “That’d be for the best, methinks. Bind his hands and gag him.” Thorin seized his restrainer’s wrist, pulled it away from his throat and twisted his hand till the dagger dropped. He shrieked and Thorin threw him at the leader.

“Get him!”

Three of them rushed at him. Thorin seized the dagger and stabbed one in the gut. He pushed him off, and the other two backed away.

“What are you waiting for?!” the leader shouted.

“I think he broke my hand.”

“Oh, shut up, you bairn!”

The sixth cleared his throat and approached. He was slighter build and smaller in stature, silencing the others. They parted for him and Thorin sneered. The man pulled a short sword free. Well, honorless as they are, at least one knew honor. The thief charged and Thorin was forced on the defensive.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose a limb. Still, the thief’s swings were wide and untrained. Thorin ducked and stuck the dagger into his side. The thief dropped the short sword and clutched at the wound. Thorin seized His shirt and paused half a second at the thief’s lightness.

Orcrist was pressed to his neck.

“Let her go,” The leader snarled.

_Her?!_

Thorin masked his surprise and two others helped the Woman up. Thorin dropped the dagger and stood. The leader grabbed his hair. “I will make your life hell for this, Dwarf—”

Thorin grabbed his arm and yelled, throwing him to the ground and seizing Orcrist from his hand before sinking it into his gut. He looked at the others. Two dead. One near death, one injured, two unharmed.

“Leave my things,” Thorin snarled. His pack and purse were dropped. One of the hale thieves picked the Woman up and they fled. He wiped the dagger and Orcrist clean before sheathing the sword and sticking the dagger in his belt.

He put his things back in place and led Labamrazkh out of the cave before mounting him and urging the pony forward, munching on cram as he made his way out of the Misty Mountains. He was loath to admit it, but it was possible Bilbo was waylaid in Rivendell. He wasn’t sure if Elrond would take kindly to his arrival, but he needed to at least look there.

 _Three days,_ he told himself. _Three days and then I continue on to the Shire_.

The rest of his day was thankfully uneventful. Not that he didn’t like a good fight (not that he’d call those thieves good fighters. Pity about the Woman. She had spirit if nothing else. Dwalin would’ve loved to have a protégé with that fire), but it did nothing but slow him down. He arrived in the Valley near dusk and was halted by Elven guards.

“Who is there and what brings you to Imladris?” A guard demanded. Thorin dismounted.

“Thorin Oakenshield is who you speak to. What brings me to Rivendell is my husband, the Hobbit. I know he has an extended invitation in the Valley from Elrond himself.”

The Elves murmured. Bilbo was well liked in Rivendell from the last time Thorin had been this way. The guard cleared his throat.

“Husband?”

“Aye,” Thorin said, bristling.

“Come with us, King of Erebor. Lord Elrond will know your presence shortly.”

Thorin bowed his head and followed the Elf into the city, Labamrazkh close behind him. He was bid to wait a moment while Elrond was alerted to his presence. As usual, music played in the Valley, filling it with peaceful, harmonic melodies that made Thorin feel quite dower. He patted Labamrazkh’s muzzle and the pony nudged his face against Thorin’s hand.

“King Thorin.”

He bowed his head to Elrond. “Elrond of Imladris,” he greeted.

“You seem more courteous than our last meeting.”

“It will not last unless I get answers,” Thorin said. Elrond’s mouth twitched at the bluntness. “And I will not rest till I have them.”

“Come and eat with me,” Elrond said. “And I will answer your questions to the best of my ability and as uncryptically as I may.” Thorin let Labamrazkh be led to the stables and his things taken to a guest room before he could insist that he would not stay. He followed Elrond to the dining table and sat down beside him. “What questions have you for me?” Elrond asked as the servants brought out food for them, “For they clearly are at the forefront of your mind.”

Thorin looked at him for a moment and then away. “Bilbo Baggins,” he said. “He left me and I journey to the Shire to try and find out why.”

“That is assuming he is in the Shire.”

“It’s the only place I can think of where he would go. My time traveling has given me time to think. I know I had failed as a spouse, but I would rather he not give up on our marriage so easily. _I_ won’t give up so easily.”

Elrond hummed. “I cannot say if he is in the Shire,” he said. “And if he is, he has not stopped in Rivendell. Which strikes me as strange. Are you certain he went west?”

“He would go to the Shire. His blood family is there. He has a house there. Where else would he go?”

“There are many places one would go in Middle Earth,” Elrond said. “He could be in Dunland. He could have gone South or East. Not that I think you are wrong to try western lands first. There is logic in your venture.”

“But you think it’s the wrong direction.”

“I don’t pretend to know your husband’s mind, Thorin, but if he knows you as well as my wife knew me, then he knows you would look in the Shire and perhaps go in a direction you would not expect. I’m not saying you shouldn’t look there. I would encourage it, but I will help you find him, if I can.”

Thorin nodded. “He is not in Eren Lasgalen. I know that much. I’ve looked.”

“Thranduil was not helpful, I take it.”

“No.”

Elrond squeezed his shoulder. “Bilbo will be found. You need your rest. Take a day or two. Let us replenish your pack and water your horse.” Thorin thanked him and stared at the food before him. It was still mostly vegetables, but there was bread and soup. He swallowed thickly and began to eat.

* * *

 ~Khuzdul~

Labamrazkh=Snowflake 


	2. Chapter 2

The last time he was in Bree there had been a storm. And now there was a storm brewing again. Thorin paid for Labamrazkh’s lodging till the weather passed and sought out the Prancing Pony. He doubted Azog’s ransom was still circulating, but he felt tense and weary on entering the inn. No one paid him mind as he bought a room for the night with promise of further payment if he stayed longer than that.

For a brief moment, he though he saw the flash of gold that was Bilbo’s hair, but the Hobbit who owned that head was far rounder than Bilbo and Thorin felt himself deflate. After travelling this far, he doubted Bilbo would have taken the time to actually cater his palate for seven meals a day. Not if he was trying to get away from Thorin.

(How _that_ thought tore at him…Thorin didn’t think any could understand.)

Thorin bought dinner, sat down at a table in the corner, and waited, reading Bilbo’s letter again. If Balin were here, he’d tell him to stop torturing himself with it. Dwalin would pry it out of his hands and keep it out of his reach. Both would tell him they’d find Bilbo and to not give up hope.

Still, he read, pausing at the last three words on the paper: _I love you_. Perhaps it was torturous, but it gave him hope. He could probably fix this.

The maid set his food down in front of him. He thanked her and she walked away. He could feel her looking back at him as he tore into the food. Whether out of curiosity or interest, he didn’t care. It wouldn’t change anything.

After he ate, he went to bed, turning his face away from the door, staring into the darkness…

_He kissed the inside of his wrist, just above the vein, and felt the warm, soft pulse. He was alive and he was all right. “How is it you are so forgiving?” he asked. “After what I tried to do to you—”_

_“Well, first of all, you were sick,” Bilbo reminded him. “And no one gets sick on their own accord. You didn’t want to get sick, Thorin. I know you feared the madness of your line and here you are, having conquered it. I think that shows how strong you really are. And second, I love you. There is very little you can do to change my mind on that matter.”_

_“Most do not give their heart back to one who had hurt them.”_

_“You didn’t hurt me,” Bilbo said. “And if I recall, you were in an out of it. I_ felt _your hands loosen, Thorin, you weren’t going to throw me down. Before Gandalf came, you were about to release me and probably tell me to get down or flee yourself…I saw your eyes. You were hurt and angry and you knew threatening me was_ not _the right course, but you were upset. It’s natural, given that I betrayed you.”_

_Thorin shook his head. “You did what was necessary. I know that now and I was too blind to see it. Still, I would not be as forgiving.”_

_“Thorin, look at me. I forgave you already. I know you’ll keep beating yourself up on this, but please, my heart, don’t think on this so much. I’m here. I’m_ right here _. You didn’t lose me.” Bilbo ran his fingers through his beard and pressed his forehead to Thorin’s. “I love you. Focus on that. Don’t focus on what has transpired between us. Focus on_ now _: I love you and I am not going anywhere.”_

_He swallowed, closing his eyes and held Bilbo close, hiding his face in his shoulder—_

The pounding on a door woke him and he stared around the room, confused. Once his confusion ebbed, he sighed, jaw tight till his teeth ground against each other. Three years ago, just after the battle, in the middle of one of the harshest winters he’d seen, that vow was made.

How easy was it for Bilbo to forget that vow?

The knocking intensified.

“All right!” he called. “I’m up!” he opened the door to see a tall, beefy man standing outside it. “May I help you, Master Butterbur?”

“Just here to ask what your intentions are with my daughter?”

Thorin blinked, confused. “Erm…none. I’m married and I’m quite sure I had not done anything untoward. If I have, then I offer my apologies: it was done in ignorance.”

“Married?”

“Aye.”

“Oh, well that’s all right then. Lovely Dwarfish lady your wife, I bet?”

“Hobbit, actually,” he said, deciding not to correct him on the gender. Men tended not to understand why some males preferred the company of their own sex. He cleared his throat. “I’ve business in Bree, then I’m heading back to the Shire.”

He nodded. “Didn’t think Dwarves fancied Hobbits that way…well, who am I to judge? Still, my daughter did take up with a Dwarf last night. Any companions you might be travelling with?”

Thorin shook his head. “Good luck finding her.”

“Aye. Thanks.”

Thorin closed the door and massaged his head, praying that Dwarf had the sense to make his escape quickly. After a moment, there was a shriek and Thorin seized Orcrist, jumping out his room to see a Dwarf running down the hall with telltale hair shaped like a star.

He should’ve known.

Well, this was Nori’s mess. With a quick apology, he went back inside, put Orcrist away, and paced. Nori was here. Meaning Nori followed him. The question was, was he here on his own accord or did Dwalin and/or Balin and/or Fili and/or Dis put him up to it?

Damn them! He told them he needed to do this alone!

Though it does explain the limited trouble he’d faced on his journey so far. That he did deal with were probably able to slip by Nori or never encountered him. Likely the latter…Nori was too good a spy to let anything _really_ slip by him.

He sat on the bed and massaged his forehead. Nori deserved to be chased down the hall by a fat Man yelling obscenities in the morning. Thorin _refused_ to pity him for that.

And when Nori climbed into his window, Thorin had half a mind to kick him out just for the fun of it. Nori grinned at him. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag?”

“More than out. It’s strutting about with its tail in the air like it owns the place,” Thorin said. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t die in the wilderness weeping for Bilbo.”

“I do not weep!”

“Well, maybe not weep…dry sobbing on the worst nights, probably.” Thorin glared at him. Dori always did say he was a little shit at the best of times. He could see why. He was worse than Dis. “He’s not here,” Nori said. “I already looked while you were taking care of your pony. Bree’s not that big of a town and I do have my own connections here. No one’s seen Bilbo.”

Thorin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look again.”

“My connections are better than that. If Bilbo was here, they’d have found him by now.”

“And what? Would you approach him?”

“If it meant keeping him here long enough for you to find him yourself, yes,” Nori said. “You’re not the only one fond of Bilbo, Thorin. He may be your husband but he’s _our_ friend and companion. We have just as much a right to know what happened.”

“You already know,” Thorin snapped.

“What is said in a letter to _you_ ,” Nori said. “If things were that difficult, why not come to us? He knows that you nephews would give you a talking down.”

That was…very true.

“Fair enough.”

“As it is, he only wrote _one_ letter and addressed it to you, saying he was leaving. Honestly, if he was going this way, I’m surprised we hadn’t at least stumbled on him in some way.”

“I have to look there,” Thorin said. “I’ve looked everywhere that we’ve gone. He wouldn’t go further north.”

“Of course not. There’s nothing up north save dragons and orcs. Plus, it’s cold. Bilbo would prefer somewhere warm where he can relax…and if he’s not in the Shire?”

“Then I will go as far west and possible.”

“That’s the Blue Mountains and then Mithlond. If he’s not there—”

“Nori, I will keep looking for as long as I must!” Thorin snapped. “If he is not in the Shire, I will go to the mountains. If he not there, I will go to Mithlond. If he is not there, I will go south. I will go to _Mordor_ if I must if it means finding Bilbo!”

“Well, let’s hope we don’t have to go _that_ far,” Nori said.

“We? No. I told Dwalin that I needed to do this alone.”

“You got this far without noticing me!”

“You slept with the owner’s _daughter_.”

“Really? That’s not even the _worst_ thing I’ve done. You know that. Besides, if not for me, you’d have been delayed more than you already have been. It is _not_ that bad, Thorin. You wouldn’t take Dwalin, so that leaves me.”

“Fili has a greater need!”

“He’s got Balin, Dwalin, and Ori to help him out. He doesn’t need me. Ori’s smarter than he looks. Plus, he’s _unassuming_. No one suspects him.”

Thorin stared at him. “Does Dori…”

“Does Dori know that I taught my brother enough tricks to be comfortable leaving him as an interim spy master? No. He lives in this little world where he prefers to believe that Ori is incapable of doing anything that I do. However, Ori’s not a kid anymore and he’s _not_ innocent, no matter how much Dori wants to believe that. Trust me. Ori is just as good if not better at being a spy master than I am.”

Thorin sighed. “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?”

Nori smirked. “Nope. Best get used to it.”

He met Nori’s gaze. “He’s not here? You’re certain?”

“Thorin, I even had them looking for _Myrtle_. If he’s here, he’s hiding better than we think and I’m pretty sure it’s hard to hide a pony, even _with_ a magic ring. I’m sorry. He’s not here. Probably hasn’t been here since the quest.”

Thorin lowered his gaze. _Bilbo, where are you?_

“You’ve still time. Maybe we’ll find him before the year’s end,” Nori said.

“Perhaps, but wherever he is, it is more than a matter than getting him back. Isn’t it? I just…I can’t force him to come back if he doesn’t want to, but I will stay and try to make it up to him if I can. If I do return to Erebor, I don’t know if I can be the king again. Each time I _try_ , Bilbo got hurt. I cannot be King of Erebor _and_ Bilbo’s husband. That is why we are here. That is why he left.”

“Others managed it. Your grandfather did, his father before him. You can do both, you just need to find the way to balance it.”

“I thought I _was_ balancing it!” Thorin shouted. “And still he left! Still, he felt alone!” He sucked in a breath. “Sorry, I’m…I’m…”

“Angry? Upset? Frustrated? I know, Thorin. I get it. Really. He was my friend, too. You aren’t the only one who’s upset and angry at him for leaving like that.” He leaned against the wall. “Go down to breakfast. I’ll get Labamrazkh and Dezeb and we’ll go to the Shire, okay? We’ll see if he went there and we’ll look there for as long as we can. Okay?”

Thorin nodded, hands trembling. He leaned forward, hiding his face in his hands. He wanted his husband back. To kiss his lips, see his smile, hear his laugh. It’d been a long time since he saw them and _Mahal curse him_ he was forgetting what Bilbo’s voice sounded like, what shade of blue his eyes were…

_What if I don’t recognize him?_

He hated that thought.

_What if he died in the wild?_

He hated that thought more.

Nori patted his shoulder. “One hour. Enough time to get yourself together, yeah?” Thorin nodded. When Nori left, Thorin nearly crumbled.

_I will find him. He’s not dead. He’s alive and he’s all right._

_He has to be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~  
> Dezeb=Diamond  
> Labamrazkh=Snowflake


	3. Chapter 3

Once they crossed the Baranduin bridge, the Shire would eventually open up for them. The more amiable Hobbits tipped their hats and waved at them while the less kind ones gazed at them with mistrust and disdain.

“So, Bilbo’s old house first?” Nori asked.

“Aye,” Thorin said, still heading straight. Nori cleared his throat. Thorin turned to him. “What?”

“It’s up this way,” Nori said, turning Dezeb northward. “You weren’t kidding about getting lost _twice_ in the Shire, were you? Miracle you got us to Erebor in one piece let alone at all.”

“Shut up,” Thorin snarled, hoping that his tone would hide his blush, and followed Nori. After a moment of wandering, they stood outside the familiar green door, repainted and refurbished. Thorin and Nori dismounted and strode past the gate up to the door, knocking.

A woman answered, ebony hair pulled out of her face and flour caked to her cheek. The curiosity of her gaze shifted to aversion, lip and nose curling as one.

“Can I help you, master Dwarves?”

“We’re looking for the master of the house,” Thorin said. “May we speak with him?”

“Don’t see what business you have with my husband.”

Thorin blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Oh boy…” Nori whispered.

“ _Your husband_?!”

“Thorin,” Nori said, pulling him aside. “I don’t think she means Bilbo.”

“Bilbo?” the woman repeated, blinking. “So he lived?”

“Of course he lived—”

“Then why didn’t he come back? Been missing for a while…we presumed he was dead.”

“Do you not have a proper period? He went _East_! That is no mere walking holiday!”

“Look, I wouldn’t know about that,” the woman sneered. “All I know is that he didn’t come back and his house now belongs to my husband. He is not here right now.”

“So Bilbo didn’t come here?”

“If he’s back in the Shire, he did _not_ come to Bag End. Likely that bastard would’ve put up a fuss, but the house is ours now and legally so. Try Tookland down south if you like. Or Buckland back eastward. His sort is better suited in either. Good day.” She shut the door in their faces and the heard the bolt latch.

“Yikes. No love lost between Bilbo and that wench,” Nori muttered.

“He did say his father’s relatives were rather unpleasant at least,” Thorin said. “But I think he was shielding us from _how_ unpleasant.”

“Considering for a moment, you actually thought—”

“Can we not?” Thorin asked as they returned to the ponies. “I’m embarrassed enough by that.”

“So you should be. Questioning Bilbo’s loyalty like that! Regardless why he left, Thorin, he wouldn’t betray you. At least not like that. At least she wasn’t so cruel as to withhold some starting places. Tookland is south of here, so just keep going south and _follow the signs_ , Thorin. I’ll head back the way we came and check around Buckland…”

Nori turned toward a bush, narrowing his eyes. Thorin blinked and watched the same bush, hearing giggles. Something collided with Thorin’s leg and he yelped in surprise, backing into Nori and staring at the mischievous child. They looked at each other and smirked.

“Does your mother know you’re attacking strangers on the road?” Nori asked.

The boy shook his head.

“Good. Wouldn’t want to get in trouble for hitting someone with a sword,” he continued.

“Aye,” Thorin said. “Lucky for you, Dwarf hide is very tough.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” the boy declared, pointing his wooden sword at him. “Right, guys?” he looked behind him and his grin died. “Guys?”

“I’m sure they’re just cautious,” Nori said, looking at Thorin was barely concealed, rising panic. Thorin sighed. _Amateur_ , he thought, approaching the bush, pretending to help the boy look for his friends, giving them plenty of times to jump at him.

Soon enough, he has two children on each arm, and a fifth strapped to his back, trying to wrestle him to the ground. Nori hid his face in his hand, embarrassed. Thorin chose not to explain. When Nori had a child of his own to raise, he’d understand.

Once the children decided they’d defeated Thorin, they tried to get to Nori, who was not as amiable with children as Thorin was. They pouted when he dove out of their reach and stayed nestled in the tree. Thorin sighed.

“Don’t mind my friend,” he said. “Perhaps you could tell me where I might find Bilbo Baggins?”

“Mister Bilbo?” the first child asked.

“No one’s seen him around these parts in _years_.”

“I know, but perhaps he came back recently? He’s a very dear friend of mine and I’d like to speak with him if he’s here.”

“Well he wouldn’t be in Hobbiton,” a girl said. “Nope. No one likes him much. My Papa said he was always unrespectable…”

Thorin tried not to cringe at that. “Perhaps he valued something other than being respectable. For instance, Dwarves don’t care about being respectable so much as being honorable. And to Dwarves, Bilbo was _very_ honorable.”

“What’s the difference?” a boy asked.

“Thorin, I’m heading to Buckland,” Nori said, jumping down and mounting Dezeb. “Meet up with me at Michel Delving in a week.”

Thorin nodded and watched him go before turning back to the children. “Being respectable means you care more about your own self than for others, you worry more about what they think of you rather than whether or not your actions are the right ones. Having honor—being _honorable_ —means you are selfless enough to put others needs before your own. Bilbo put his life on the line to help me and my people get our home back when no one else would.”

“Who took your home?”

“Why didn’t you just get their mother?”

“Did they think you died?”

“No, it was not like that,” Thorin said. “A dragon took it. How about you show me the way to Tookland and I’ll tell you the whole story.” Minus certain…moments that may or may not be appropriate for children’s ears.

A promise of a story was enough to enlist the little band of furry-footed bairns to show him the way. Some of them walked beside him, others insisted on riding on Labamrazkh’s back.

After a while, they arrived at a hilly landscape with well-dressed men and women walking about and more children grew to Thorin’s following, as the tale of the quest for Erebor spread among them and even drew in some of the adults as it spread.

“Master Dwarf!”

Thorin glanced up to meet the gaze of one of the Hobbits. His eyes were quite similar to Bilbo’s, but the similarities stopped there.

The hobbit stuck his hand out. “Fortinbras Took the Second, Thain of the Shire.”

“Thain? Would that make you the king?” Thorin asked, shaking his hand.

“King?! Heavens no! Military head at best. Not that we have much need of a military…”

“Forgive me, I thought I might be speaking with an equal. Perhaps I still am.”

“Equal?” Fortinbras asked, dropping their hands. “What do you mean?”

Thorin bowed, “Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, at your service,” he said.

“Ah.”

“Kings tend to be the head of the military, political head, and commerce.”

“Yes, we actually divide each. The Thain is the military head and some commerce, the mayor takes care of the politics in Michel Delving, and the Brandybucks primarily concern themselves with military and commerce as well…A bit easier to handle that way. Must be tiring, being a king.”

“A bit.”

Fortinbras led him inside one of his houses. Bilbo’s house, when it had been his, seemed rather large. Now looking around, Thorin could tell that compared to the houses like this, it had been rather modest. It was no mountain, but still.

“So, the children say you’re looking for my little cousin, Bilbo. My father was his mother’s brother, you know. Can I offer you tea?”

“No, thank you,” Thorin said. “Is he here? Have you seen him?”

Fortinbras shook his head. “He’d have gone to Bag End first and all of the Shire would have known he was back just from the row he’d have with Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. Nasty business that would be. And he’d only come here if he didn’t manage to kick her and her husband out. After that, he’d be getting gawkers he’d rather avoid, probably snarl at them. He’d always been the solitary sort.”

Thorin knew well as soon as Bilbo was able to have his own confined space, he took to it with more flourish than Thorin expected. Many nights early in their marriage were spent just reading by the fire in peace, no words, save perhaps Thorin humming, singing, or playing his harp…

By Mahal’s forge, he missed those nights.

“Forgive me, Master Thorin, but are you and Bilbo romantically involved?”

Thorin’s head snapped up. “I did not know I had been that…”

“Oh, half the reason Bilbo wasn’t all that sociable was due to his preferences. It’s why he was a confirmed bachelor, you see. I’m not judging. Some do, but Tooks are more open minded than most others in the Shire…”

Thorin bit his lip and sucked in a breath. “He’s my husband,” he admitted. “And he’s missing. Perhaps it is normal in the Shire for one to leave their spouse?”

“Only in cases of abuse,” Fortinbras said seriously.

“What of neglect?”

“It can happen, but to be frank, it rarely does.”

“Same among my people,” Thorin admitted. “I just…my kingdom had been in…he…” Thorin sighed, hiding his face in his hands. “He left without saying goodbye. He just…left and this is the only place I can think of that he went.”

“Without trying to talk about the problem first?”

“I was so busy that he might have…but I don’t remember if he did try,” Thorin said. “I just want him back. None of this makes sense!” He paused, glancing up at Fortinbras. His face was blank. “I’m sorry. I’m usually a lot more composed than this.”

“To be perfectly honest, I’d be just as panicked if my wife left me out of the blue,” Fortinbras said. “Actually, I’d be worse. You’re quite held together given the circumstances.”

Thorin scoffed. “You should’ve seen me when I found out he was gone. I’ve not been properly composed for months. He’s a little trinket that makes it more difficult to find him, but I’d…I _swear_ I’d have found him sooner even _with_ this trinket of his. But everywhere I’ve gone—everywhere he could possibly have gone—nothing. I fear I’ve gone in the wrong direction entirely.”

Fortinbras stood. “We’ll get a room set up for you. I don’t think he’s here. He wouldn’t have need for any trinkets here. He’s enough relatives loyal in these parts who’d hide him. I’ll look around.” He paused. “If I may be frank, Master Thorin, but I don’t think he’d have just up and left over a domestic. Bilbo might be the sort who prefers his privacy, but he’s not cruel.”

 _You’d be surprised_ , he thought bitterly as he recalled Bilbo’s thievery of the Arkenstone. _Damn it, will you ever truly let that go?!_ He snapped at himself.

“After his father died, he and his mother went west to the sea,” Fortinbras said. “Just for the season, you know? Never saw my aunt that broken before. When they came back, she was better and they made a habit of it till her death just a few months after Bilbo’s coming of age. If he’s nowhere in the Shire, he might have just passed through to go there.”

Thorin arched a brow. The sea? A whole world away?

Perhaps it was time to rethink his strategy…did Bilbo really leave him of his own accord?

In all sense and purpose, it seemed like he did.

But without saying a proper goodbye to the rest of the company? Without a word? Without being seen? Only to go to the sea?

No something was _off_ about all of this!

At dinner, the ground shook and quaked beneath them for about five minutes, startling Fortinbras’ wife and child. Then the ground stilled and Thorin felt as though something had _drastically_ changed, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.


	4. Chapter 4

The Tooks were certain that Bilbo would have come to their abode if he did not manage to get Bag End back from his cousins. Thorin, however, wasn’t moving on until he had scoured every inch of the Shire. He didn’t want to think ill of Fortinbras, and he didn’t, but he also didn’t know whether or not to believe them on Bilbo’s personality. He might very well decide _not_ to go to them, after all.

Even at the end, it was hard to leave. The Shire was filled with great comforts and Thorin didn’t remember being this well fed since he left. At the end of the week, he thanked them for their help and hospitality before making his way to Michel Delving. Nori waited outside the gates, smoking.

“About time you got here.”

“No luck on your part?”

“I’d have sent word to you if I had any luck.”

Thorin thought as much. He sighed and led Labamrazkh into the city. Michel Delving was larger than Hobbiton and far less hostile to outsiders. They restocked on food and supplies, had their pony’s shoes looked at while they shared a lunch, and at last made their way to the gates. There were some farmers around the white downs and Thorin figured he’d come this far, they might as well ask.

It was long into night by the time they made camp just at the edge of the Far Downs.

“Rate we’re going, it’ll take forever,” Nori said, handing him some smoked meats. Thorin nodded. “You don’t care, do you?”

“No. I don’t.”

Nori sighed. “Thorin, it would be impossible for us to look everywhere in Middle Earth. Bilbo wouldn’t have been able to flee without stopping at major cities to have Myrtle checked on and also get new supplies.”

“There are still cities west of the Shire. We’ll keep looking.”

“And if we never find him?”

“I’m not keeping you here,” Thorin snarled. “If you want to go home, be my guest. I’m not going back to Erebor without Bilbo. I can’t.”

“Thorin—”

“Don’t,” he said, staring at the flames. “He’s alive. I need to believe he’s alive.” Thorin bit his lip and sighed shakily. “Let me hold onto that, if nothing else, Nori. Please.”

“He’s alive,” Nori said so surely, Thorin almost thought he believed it too. “I’ll take first watch. Try to sleep, Thorin.” Thorin nodded, pulling his blankets around him with his back to the fire and Nori. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking.

#

“Hobbits hardly come this way, Master Dwarves,” the Man said. “And that’s if they ever do. There have been one or two. The last time I saw Hobbits this far west was Madam Baggins and her son. Sweet lady, she was, and her son was gentlemanly enough. They’d ferry across the river and find a place to stay at the Grey Havens.”

Thorin nodded. “Where is the ferry?”

“Well, as I said, I’ve not seen a Hobbit in these parts for twenty years and if that young master had decided to come back this way after all that time, I’ve not seen him.”

“But others perhaps had,” Thorin said, trying to remain calm, though his temper was wearing thin.

The man arched a brow at him. “And what matter would two Dwarves have with a Hobbit?”

“He’s a friend and had gone missing,” Nori said before Thorin could lash out. “We’re merely concerned. His family’s out of sorts, you see? We’ve been looking a long time and any help would be appreciated.”

The man stared at them for a moment longer, wondering if he ought to aid them as they asked. “Ferry’s that way,” he said, pointing north. “You’ll need a silver piece to pay with, though, for each of you and your ponies.”

“Thank you,” Nori said, bowing. He tugged on Thorin’s arm. “Come on,” he hissed. Thorin followed. “You need to keep your temper in check.”

“Forgive me if my temper is a bit frayed,” Thorin sneered. “If or when you wed, you’ll likely understand how I feel.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” Nori said. “Not interested in that. Plus, with my line of work, it’d be rather selfish, since I’d probably end up putting my wife and child in danger. Better to remain loose.”

The rest of the way to the ferry was silent save for the sound of the river and the clopping of the ponies’ hooves. They handed two silver pieces to the ferryman and let Dezeb and Labamrazkh be led to join the other steeds on the bottom level of the ferry while they found a place to sit.

There were far too many Elves for Thorin’s comfort and several took to staring at him and Nori as if they couldn’t fathom why Dwarves would travel this route rather than further north where the entrance to the Blue Mountains remained.

_Le suilon, Thorin son of Thrain…_

Thorin blinked, looking around, trying to find the woman to whom the voice belonged. No one was meeting his gaze.

 _You are heading the wrong way,_ the voice, rich and fair, said. _The one you seek is alive and finds healing in the House of Denethor. Go to the White City in the south and east._

 _“Who are you?”_ he thought.

He received no answer.

“Thorin?” Nori asked, brow furrowed.

“Nothing,” he said. “It’s nothing.”

 _Turn around_.

_“If I do that now, my companion will be confused.”_

_Do as you will,_ the voice replied calmly. _But be swift. Your husband needs you._

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nori asked. He smirked. “Is it the Elves?”

Those who heard him glared, but Thorin cleared his throat and looked out the window. “It’s nothing,” he said. “Nothing. We’ll stay the night in Mithlond, then we double back, head south.”

Nori furrowed his brow. “Why?” Thorin glanced at him. Nori was smart. He wasn’t likely to take being led astray happily and he was already suspicious. _Well, no point in lying to him_ , Thorin decided. He recapped the conversation he had. “What if it’s a lie?” Nori asked.

Thorin massaged his forehead. “It’s the only lead we have. He didn’t go to the Shire, and I was _certain_ he would. I’ve searched for my father on nothing more than rumors before, Nori. I’d take less than even a rumor if it meant finding Bilbo.”

Nori rubbed the back of his head. “Okay. But promise me this: if he’s not where this woman says, we return to Erebor, and pray he comes home on his own. Even if you aren’t our king, Fili would benefit from your guidance.”

“You don’t think we’re going to make it.”

“White Downs,” he said. Thorin nodded. That was a fair point. The ferry docked and they went to get their ponies despite the humming Thorin felt beneath his skin.

The White City.

Gondor? Minas Tirith?

What other White City was there?

What had driven Bilbo to head South?

The woman said he was alive. She never said he was unharmed. Nori seemed to be the only one able to eat at the moment as Thorin pulled the letter free and read it again.

“You need to stop doing this to yourself,” Nori said, “Put it away and eat.”

“He’s alive, but what if he’s hurt?”

Nori bowed his head. “Thorin, worrying isn’t going to help you. And if it doesn’t help you, it doesn’t help Bilbo. Put the damn letter away. Eat. Sleep. This is your lead. If he’s where the voice in your head says—and honestly, can you blame me for being skeptical about that?—then he’s likely fine. Nor will he be going anywhere.”

Thorin nodded, setting the letter back in his pocket and tore at a bread roll. Nori pulled out a map and laid it on the table. “There’s only one White City I can think of: Minas Tirith. Normally, it’s a three month journey from the Shire to Erebor when you’re not stopping to knock on every bloke’s door. It took longer for us because of that. But I’m guessing it’d be about the same amount of time, maybe a month more at most. Tomorrow, if you’re insisting on leaving again at first light, we can probably get to Emyn Beraid by nightfall.”

“That’s if we’re lucky enough not to run into trouble,” Thorin said.

“Aye, there’s always that, but given you can handle fifty goblins on your own—”

“Goblins, as you know, are weaker than Orcs, nor as smart.”

“True,” Nori said. “Emyn Beraid is Elven land. They might not take kindly to us being there.”

“They’ll have to deal with it. We’ll only be there long enough to camp and despite our hostility with the Elves, we can and will be left alone.”

“Aye, being the wielder of Orcrist must help gain favor with them.”

Thorin ignored that. “Men reside there too. I’m more worried about them.”

“Men are easier to handle, though,” Nori said. “From there, it’ll be about a week at least to reach Eryn Vorn and that,” Nori clicked his tongue. “The men there are hunters. And that’s if there really is a settlement in those woods. At worst, we may be dealing with bandits.”

Thorin nodded. He’d not been to the Blackwood, elsewise known as Eryn Vorn, before. Rumors only. “From there, baring any trouble, we’d have to find a way across the Greyflood.”

“One river at a time, I’m not sure this route will allow us to cross the Baranduin again.”

“Which way would?”

“We’d go back through the Shire, cross the Baranduin at Sarn Ford, cross the Greyflood at the Old Bridge, which goes straight south through Dunland and the Gap of Rohan and the road changes to the Great West Road. It’s an open road, and open roads are often attacked.”

Thorin scratched his chin. Take a lesser known road through the wilderness, or take a more common road…

“Both routes are susceptible to attack either way you look,” Thorin said. “The danger remains the same. What I’m more concerned about is if word gets to Bilbo, he might try to flee from me. And that’s if the woman’s voice speaks truth. I don’t want to risk him running from me. We can handle bandits, thieves, orcs, and goblins. It’s a matter of which route would be fastest and bring us less attention.

“The Old South Road, then,” Nori said. “Merchants usually travel it, which is why it’s more open to attack, but soldiers also go on it as well as regular travelers like ourselves. Besides, two Dwarves are easier to pass through without thought or heed. I doubt Bilbo will hear of us till we’re in Minas Tirith.”

Thorin finished eating and stood. “I’m going to bed.”

Nori nodded, still staring at the map.

#

_The parchment was pulled out from under his nose and replaced with a plate with lamb and potatoes. Thorin looked up at Bilbo, arching a brow. “What is this?”_

_“Lunch,” he said, smiling at him before setting the parchment down. “It wouldn’t do for you to run on fumes and I refuse to have you passing out from hunger and exhaustion, understood?”_

_Thorin nodded, smiling fondly at Bilbo. “What of you?”_

_“Me? I already ate. Thorin, it’s nearly tea time.”_

_His smile vanished. “I missed lunch again?”_

_“Indeed. Looks like I’ll have to make it a habit to interrupt your work if it means getting you to eat,” Bilbo said, coming around and kissing Thorin. “Do try to be back home in time for dinner, though.”_

_Thorin nodded, picking up the fork and stabbing the sliced potatoes._

He woke up, still smelling that meal, and blinked in confusion. Memories and dreams were getting harder to tell apart. Thorin fisted the sheets where Bilbo would have laid were he where he was meant to be. As his senses returned, Thorin swallowed.

_You had my attention that day. Why didn’t you talk to me then?_

He recalled that he was just starting to get busier at that time. More people were traveling to the mountain, more jobs were needed, and more housing was required. He had, for some reason, decided his people needed his attention more than his family…

Thorin jumped out of bed and splashed his face with cold water. He’d get Nori up. They’d eat, then they’d leave. Thorin glanced outside. The sun was still climbing it’s way into the sky, painting the sea in gold amidst the blue.

Thorin sucked in a breath and released it.

_Whatever made you leave me, I will fix it. That I vow, Givhasheluh._


	5. Chapter 5

The path back eastward was quiet. Birds sang, flapping away to dodge their predators which they then taunted. Nights were star filled and cloudless. When rain came, it was refreshing, cleansing even. But Thorin felt no joy in the startling beauty that Nori had pointed out, acting more relaxed than usual. No, he didn’t think he could relax until he knew what became of Bilbo.

The woman’s message was always on the forefront of his mind.

He’s alive, but is he safe?

He’s alive, but what of his health?

Is he well?

Is he healthy?

Is he okay?

None of it received answers. The woman never contacted him again.

Two weeks passed, they stopped at the Sarn Ford, sharing papers with the rangers and breaking bread with them for then night before being sent on their way in the morning. “The rangers say it’s another week if time is well used to get to the Old Bridge,” Nori said, reviewing the map. Thorin grunted in response. “We may make camp with other travelers later, supposedly traders go south this way from the Old North Road.” Still no response besides a grunt. 

Nori urged Dezeb into a trot till the two of them were side by side. “Thorin, you slept last night, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“Oh good, for a second there, I thought you were snoring, not grunting like a bear. Why are you acting so dour? The weather’s nice and spring-like. We’ve spent two weeks on the road without being attacked and we may be able to find company.”

“I don’t care for company,” Thorin said. “Were it possible, I’d race to Minas Tirith.”

“Now, now, don’t act like that. This is your lead that you want to chase and so far we’re making good time,” Nori said. “Don’t push your horse beyond his limits. Bilbo would be quite cross—”

Thorin seized Nori’s tunic and gave him a firm shake. “Don’t you _dare_ say that to me! Don’t you dare!”

“Even though we know it’s the truth.” Nori pried Thorin off. “You’re worried and you’re scared. I understand that. More than you think I do. Lashing out at me, pushing Labamrazkh to the limit, that won’t do you any good and you know Bilbo would not approve of it. We’ll find him and we’ll find out what really made him leave.”

“We _know_ what made him leave.”

“We know what he told you in a letter that he may or may not have written under duress. Now stop wallowing in your sorrow and pity. Save it for when we find him.”

Nori rode ahead and Thorin urged Labamrazkh after him, head bowed. How he’d like for something to distract him. He never thought he’d _want_ an Orc attack or bandits so much, so long as it distracted him from the now impeding conversation he was going to have with Bilbo.

And he feared it.

#

The following night was spent with traders heading to villages in Dunland.

“Minas Tirith prides itself as cultured,” the traders said. “Depends on what you consider cultured, you know.” They did.

Elves especially saw Dwarves as flawed and abominable, but one culture was never going to be the same as another. Dwarves and Dunlendings had often been allies, given similarities. The only difference was that the Dunlendings were considered lesser by those of their very race.

Thorin knew cultures varied for each Dwarf kingdom and he respected that for the most part. It was odd that one group of humans would pride themselves above another group of humans. It was one thing for him to have issues with Elves. His prejudice was based on his own experience and Bilbo had certainly helped him through his anger.

 _The fault of one is not on the faults of the others_ , Bilbo had said. _I will gladly deal with Thranduil if you think you cannot be civil to him, but Lord Elrond was_ nothing _like him and you know it. Perhaps if you had sought the Elves of Rivendell out for help, they may have answered. It’s not all on them, my love._

Thorin tore at his bread, focusing instead of what Nori spoke of with one of the merchants. Something about how Orcs and Goblins had gone into hiding or something equally odd about how rumors have spread about Mordor being no longer desolate…

“Still set on that road, though?”

“Aye,” Nori said.

They hummed. “I suppose that means you’re heading to the coronation?”

“Coronation?” Thorin asked, frowning. “The Steward is dead?”

“Oh! No, no, nothing like that. They’re crowning their queen: a wife of a descendant of Isildur. The mother of Isildur’s Heir, Lady Gilraen of the Dunedain,” the merchant said. “As pretty as a dove, she is, and as fierce as the shield-maids of old. Her son should be there as well.”

“And why would she be crowned and not her son?”

“Her son is still a boy,” another said. “Not yet fourteen years of age. Far too young to run a kingdom.”

Nori leaned in. “That makes him a lad of forty or so for us,” he whispered.

“I know, Nori,” Thorin snapped. “What of the Steward?” How does he react to this change?”

“Not sure yet,” the man said, scratching his beard. “Queen or not, there’s lots of people going to see the woman crowned. Seems like the line of Kings will be reestablished through this…” the man chuckled. “They’re saying the people are already calling her the Queen Mother and the details haven’t exactly been worked out completely yet, as far as we know.”

Thorin tuned them out. Men did not view women as the same as Dwarves did. Women were rare and often protected fiercely. But it was also rude to guess at another Dwarf’s gender. Many Dams fought by their side.  _Dis_ fought by his side after Thror’s death…

Thorin had no qualms about his sister taking the throne in his stead if she had lived. “Queen Mother” is a rather suitable title for a female monarch, he thought, especially if they are, in fact, mothers. That instinct, that ferocity…Nothing was more frightening than an angry mother. Gondor, he believed, found themselves lucky. He wondered if they would think the same.

Probably not.

Thorin dismissed himself to bed.

#

_He pressed his lips to each scar etched into Thorin’s skin._

_“You should get tattoos,” Bilbo suggested, smiling against his abdomen._

_“After everything I’ve done?” Thorin asked._ _Bilbo’s head lifted so to look at him._ _“I do not find much of what I’ve done to be admirable.”_

_Bilbo sighed. “Like with the beard.”_

_“I’m growing it out.”_

_“Yes,” Bilbo said, crawling back up and tugging the locks on Thorin’s chin till they pressed their lips together. “You are growing it out. You have many scars that show how much you’ve lived through. Dwalin honors the memory through his tattoos and jewels. You’d be very pretty if you did the same.”_

_“I doubt it.”_

_Bilbo huffed and sat on Thorin’s stomach, hands pressing into his shoulders._ _“Thorin, I love you. You’re mortal and you make mistakes. Yavanna_ knows _, I’ve made mistakes. I still make them, I bet, though not on as big a scale as before. After all, we haven’t had to contend with any trolls lately.”_

_Thorin smiled, placing his hands on Bilbo’s hips. “I’ll think about it, okay?”_

_Bilbo nodded, pressing his lips to Thorin’s neck to resume his worship…_

He opened his eyes. The sky was colored grey-blue and threatening to rain. Thorin stared at it for a while, cursing his memory for torturing him so. Or maybe it was his brain’s way of trying to figure out the point where _exactly_ he had lost Bilbo.

He wished it give up. He was going to find out in a few weeks’ time. It could wait.

Why would it not wait?

Thorin got up, heading to relieve himself and after that, wake Nori. Sooner they’re up and have eaten, the sooner they can leave and cover more distance than if they waited for the sun to be in the sky. He kicked Nori’s calf and mentioned food to him. It earned him a dark glare, but beside that, he suffered no retaliation from Nori of any kind. Once they ate, they saddled their ponies.

“Where do you think you two are going?” one of the merchants asked.

“We could travel together for a bit,” another said.

Thorin narrowed his eyes at them. “We’re on a schedule,” he said. We cannot stay.”

“At least wait for us to break our fast. Schedule or not, two Dwarves is easier to overrun than two Dwarves and a caravan of Men.”

“We are not companions,” Nori said, mounting Dezeb. “And we have no cause or reason to stay. Bid us goodbye and be done with it. Delaying us will only make my companion irritable.”

“Yes, I suppose a king would be easily irritated,” the first man said, arching a brow.

Something collided with Thorin’s head. He groaned, stumbling to the ground. Nori roared and lunged, but he was kicked down.

“Keep them down!”

“Tie their hands! Gag the king!”

The leader of the group approached and knelt. “Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, do you know how much your head is still worth? Quite a pretty coin, I think. I’m sure your nephews would pay the price regardless.” Thorin glared at him. “Put them with the others,” he said. Thorin and Nori were pulled to their feet and dragged to one of the wagons, within were women and children, chained to bars, dirty and grimy. Thorin glared at Nori.

Of _course_ they’d be found and tricked by slave traders.


	6. Chapter 6

Thorin’s head throbbed. The cart’s jostling did not help. Nor did the children’s whimpers. But he wasn’t likely to tell them to shut up any time soon. Nori had managed to distract some of them with his knife tricks after he got himself unlocked.

After each trick, he’d unlock one of the prisoners as he whispered plans to them and Thorin. They’d have to wait till the slavers were asleep, but they’d steal away in the middle of the night. The women were to wait for him and Thorin to slay the traders and once they were safe, they’d escort the women and children to Dunland.

At this, he gave Thorin a pointed look. _Don’t argue with me on this_.

Thorin wasn’t going to. He hated the delay, but it was unavoidable. Slavery was a true abomination. Why Men were so easily swayed to do evil, he didn’t understand! It made no sense to him!

Still, getting these people out was more important at the moment and save for the occasional thought along the lines of, _I’m sorry, Bilbo. Just wait a little longer,_ he held firm in this. Perhaps not as firm as Nori, but still quite firm.

At last, the women and children were freed and Nori approached Thorin. He flipped his knives about in a grand show that Thorin was not impressed by and at last unlocked his wrists.

They stopped and Nori dove back to his place, hiding his hands behind his back and whispering at everyone to stay still. Everyone fell silent as the traders went around, stuffing bread into their charges’ mouths. The children, thankfully, kept their hands under their bums. It was dark enough in the cage that the traders didn’t notice much of a difference.

After that, the cart jostled again and Thorin groaned.

“All right?”

“My head.”

“Yeah, you took a nasty blow.”

“I _know_ , Nori,” he snapped, glaring at him.

Nori shrugged and entertained the children with some other magic tricks. Thorin’s fingers itched for his sword. Hell, he didn’t know how Nori managed to sneak so many weapons into his _hair_. It was, he’d admit, impressive.

Didn’t mean he was in a mood to be impressed. The next time they stopped was ages later at night. Nori pressed his finger to his lips, ordering them to not make more noise than normal. The traders entered once more with dinner—another scrap of bread and some water—and left.

Nori didn’t say it was all right to move until late at night when he moved for the door and picked it’s lock. He opened it quickly, barely getting much of a squeak in.

“Wait here,” he said, “Thorin with me.” He handed Thorin a dagger. “I know it’s not your style, but we need to be quiet.”

“It’s cowardly. But so are they,” he said with a sigh and followed Nori out. One by one, they slit the traders’ throats. A couple dared to fight back, but there was little to be done when one is bleeding out from a cut to their neck.

It took very little effort if any. They piled the bodies off the side of the road and burned them with one of the torches they had kept as light. They didn’t stay to watch long. After the pile was lit, Nori fetched the women while Thorin unhinged the horses from their carts.

There were three horses, two mules, and his and Nori’s ponies. Hopefully that would be enough to cart the children. Food was distributed and legs sore from disuse.

“We can’t stay much longer,” Nori said as he and Thorin pushed the carts off the road.

“I know. But we must see them to Dunland. We’re the only protection they have right now. But the weapons, the women can at least carry their own weapons. Sometimes knowing which end the sharp end goes is enough.”

“They’ll want to wash.”

“If we have time to spare, and we come across a lake, they may do so.”

“I thought nothing but Bilbo mattered,” Nori said, arching a brow.

“He would want me to do this,” Thorin said, leaving out the selfish part of the ordeal—if he did this, he could probably face Bilbo again with some of his honor intact.

Nori patted his shoulder and called the women to them. “We make for Dunland. Yes, it is wild land, but the people there are honorable in their own way. They will offer you sanctuary until you can get back to your homes and families,” he announced. Despite that, the women still looked nervous and the children clung to them, looking quite miserable.

Thorin huffed and stood beside Nori. “I know this is not ideal to many of you, good dames,” he said. “But rest assured it is a better situation than where we all were just a few hours ago. Perhaps the better of what you’ve dealt with in months. You can brave the wild on your own or you can go to Dunland, replenish your strength, and send word to your loved ones if you can. After that, your fates are in your own hands.”

“And what of you!” One of the women demanded. “Would you stay as well, Master Dwarves?”

“Our venture takes us further south,” Thorin said.

“You speak pretty words,” she said directly to Thorin, “And we thank you for your aid, but how can we trust you or anything you say?”

Thorin swallowed and opened his mouth to answer—

“Do you not trust the word of a king?” Nori asked. “This is Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror, the King of Erebor, Lord of the Silver Fountain!” Thorin wanted to strangle him. “You owe him your allegiance if nothing more! Like it or not, Dwarves are more honorable than most men! Or need you be reminded that we just saved you from being sold at a slave auction?”

Thorin seized Nori’s shoulder. “That’s enough,” he said. He turned to the others. “I can only give our word at this time, but we had freed you, had we not? Had we not slain your captors? If that is not enough, then you may go your way—any way you choose. Or you can let us protect you till we reach the nearest Dunlending village. It is your decision. We will not stop you from making it.”

The woman approached. “Are you truly a king?”

“I am, though I do not travel like one. For my journey, stealth was required more than anything.”

Whoever this woman was, she was a daughter of kings, if nothing else. He could see it in her eyes, in her stance, and in her bearing. Socially (and perhaps politically), he outranked her, but he never treated any woman as anything less than an equal. His sister was one of his dearest advisers when she lived, after all. Thorin met her gaze unwaveringly.

“What name do you go by?” he asked.

“Haldora, daughter of Renilda of Annuminas,” she said.

Thorin bowed. “It is an honor to meet the daughter of Lady Renilda.”

Haldora arched a brow. “You knew my mother?”

“She was my nephews’ playmate while my sister and I sought work in Annuminas.”

“For a king, you speak of work as though you had done any,” Haldora said.

Thorin sighed and recounted his tale as well as how he could possibly be old enough to know her mother as a child.

Even then, she did not look entirely convinced, but it was enough for her to let him and Nori lead those who wished to Dunland. Children were mounted on the ponies and donkeys and some of the women took to the horses, the rest would have to walk.

By then, the sun had risen and Rangers would come by to investigate the fire sooner or later. Still, the sun was welcome by many. At night, they camped around a lake where the women and children bathed as Nori cooked a dinner big enough for everyone.

Thorin laid on his bedroll, staring at the blue sky as it darkened.

“Regardless what you think, it’s been a rather interesting adventure,” Nori said.

“I went the wrong way.”

“But you and I saved a bunch of damsels in distress. And since you’re not one for ladies, its more for me. That Haldora, for instance…”

“Don’t. She’s clearly above you.”

“Literally or…”

“She’s a noblewoman, Nori.”

“So? I’m Erebor’s spymaster. I’m sure that has to count for something.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “You may try to woo her, but I’m certain you won’t succeed. A woman like that…she doesn’t take lightly to being someone’s conquest.” Like his sister was.

Nori shrugged. “I might as well try anyway,” he said, stirring the pot. “Perhaps I’ll try tonight. Not going to have many chances, you know. Taste this. Is it all right to you?”

“No thank you,” he said stretching.

The women were coming back, happier than before and even the children seemed quite glad to be rid of whatever filth they’d been stewing in (the cart had _not_ been pleasant in any way).

After dinner, Thorin and Nori went to bathe themselves. There was an incident where the young women were caught peeking. Thorin glared at them while Nori just winked. But it really could be worse. That much was certain.

#

_A finger pressed to his brow. “Even in your sleep, you scowl so much,” Bilbo said. Thorin’s lips quirked upward and he opened his eyes. They were on the balcony outside their rooms where Bilbo had taken to growing a garden. His head lay in Bilbo’s lap and Bilbo’s fingers ran through his hair. “That’s better, Master Grump.”_

_“If I am grumpy, you may blame it on the court,” Thorin said. “They’ve been running me ragged these days. I’d rather spend them with you, Ghivasha.”_

_“Oh, I’m quite certain you’re happy to get away from me,” Bilbo teased._

_“Never,” Thorin said. “I could never tire of this.” He swallowed, smile dying. “Why did you leave? I know what your letter said, the reason you gave, but why? Why leave? Why not talk to me about it? I would have listened, Bilbo. I would have tried to make it right.”_

_“I know you would have.”_

_Thorin sat up, turning to him. “Then why?”_

_“Regardless what you say now, Thorin, you did abandon me.”_

_“I was there.”_

_“Physically, yes, but emotionally you were distant. Too busy. Remember? The day I left? That morning?”_

_He did not—no, he did remember. Bilbo had brought lunch, told him he missed it again. Thorin had dismissed him, the things he said…_

_“You treated me as if I were a lowly servant and not your husband.”_

_“I am sorry.”_

_“I know you are. Now, you are. But would you have been had I stayed?”_

_“I would have!”_

_“I don’t believe you.”_

He woke, gasping for breath. Nori stood over him with worried eyes. “You were moaning. Not the good kind either. What was it?”

“Nothing,” Thorin said, hiding his face behind his hand. “It was nothing.”

“Okay. Well, it’s time to get up. Go wash your face, you’re a mess. Wouldn’t want the ladies to see their brave rescuer in tears from a dream.”

Thorin punched his nose.


	7. Chapter 7

“For a king, you are strange,” Haldora said the following night. Thorin met her gaze. “Your eyes are that of a man who has lost much that cannot be regained and you say your journey requires as much stealth as possible. As far as I know, there is no land in the South for Dwarves. Who is it you’re looking for?”

“My spouse,” he said.

“So you are cuckolded and seek vengeance on your wife’s lover.”

Thorin snorted. “A good guess, but I do not have a wife.”

Haldora’s eyebrows rose. “Your spouse is male?”

“Aye. And I am not _cuckolded_.” At least he hoped not. “I’ve not been the best husband he deserved.”

“Is it common among your people? Men marrying men?”

“Is it common among your people to lump all my people together under one gender?” Thorin bit back. Haldora laughed.

“Forgive me, but heirs are important, are they not? You cannot achieve that with a male lover or are Dwarves unique in such a way?”

They could. Thorin could, technically, if he and Bilbo wanted, but such things were one of the many closely guarded secrets they kept, so he shook his head. “Only our women. Heirs are not a problem for me, however. I have named my sister-sons my heirs many years ago and I am proud of whom they’ve become. My eldest heir sits on the throne in my stead.”

“I see. So if your husband is not unfaithful, why would he leave?”

Thorin narrowed her eyes at him. “That is not your concern, Lady of the North.”

“All right, keep your secrets, Lord of the Silver Fountain,” she said. “And call off your guard. He’s done nothing but pester me.”

“You are welcome to tell him no and cuff the back of his head. He’ll get the message then.” Haldora snorted and left, heading toward some of the women and inquiring after them. Nori slid into place beside him.

“You’re horrid.”

“And you are supposed to know better than to harass women when your advances are rebuffed.”

“If I gave up after one time—”

“There are others. You did manage to bed a barkeeper’s daughter. I take that took a little bit of wooing.”

“Any advice?”

“I’m afraid my courting experiences are limited and unfruitful. Or need I remind you that Bilbo used to hate me?”

“Well, you did get him to love you enough to marry you eventually. Even if only for a while.” Thorin glared at him and Nori sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure he still loves you. The letter attests to that, right?”

“It does,” Thorin said, reaching for it. He put his hand back on his knee. “But who knows now? He might have grown to hate me anyway since his departure.”

Nori sighed and leaned forward. “What I’d give to still have my pipe and some weed! I could have a smoke while I think of something to tell you.”

“You’re not married nor in a committed relationship.”

“No, but I have found that love tends to blend and twist about. There is a measure of platonic love in romance, and that is _very_ common between all sorts of platonic relationships, be it among friends or even brothers. I left Dori and Ori alone often to protect them.”

“I do not see any reason for Bilbo to have left for the sake of protecting me or his friends. He was quite clear in the letter why he left and I _know_ that I have not been the husband he deserves.”

“But is it a better reason?”

“No, but it is easier to accept as opposed to being unfaithful.”

“Ach, don’t listen to that woman,” Nori said. “Having a nice rack and good birthing hips does not make her knowledgeable on the ways of love. Especially the love you and Bilbo have. It is on par with some of Middle Earth’s greatest romances. The two of you are Erebor’s Beren and Luthien.”

“That I doubt.”

“It’s just a comparison.”

Thorin scoffed. A comparison? Really? He couldn’t even be a proper husband for longer than a few sparse years before pushing Bilbo aside! He is certain that any ballads pertaining to him and Bilbo would _not_ be so grand or fair.

He stood. “I’m going to bed,” he said. Thorin did not wait for Nori’s response, but headed over to his bed and laid down, staring at the stars, wondering if Bilbo was watching them as well from Minas Tirith.

#

They left the women in the first Dunlending Village they came across. Thorin and Haldora spoke with the leader, who welcomed them with open arms and plenty of food. In the morning, Thorin and Nori mounted their steeds and rode south for as far as they could. It took them close to three days to arrive at the Gap of Rohan, quite close to Isengard.

The land, usually dry, felt strange in this season and the rocks, while not as used to being cared for as the rocks of Erebor and other Dwarf lands, were…well, it stone sense was always hard to explain, but the closest thing Thorin could put to it was cheer.

“How much farther till we reach Minas Tirith?” Thorin asked that night.

They were, perhaps, a day away from the River Isen.

“Some time still,” Nori said. “A week or two, by my guess. We’re but a few days from Edoras. It would be a good place to stop and get a proper rest before heading to Minas Tirith. Bilbo might have stopped there before. You might as well ask the people there if they’ve seen him. It’d at least give the woman some credibility.”

That was true, even if Thorin didn’t like the idea of stopping there. A Hobbit this far south would not be so easy to forget. If anyone had seen Bilbo in Edoras, he needed to know if he was still there if he had been there at all in the last few months.

“Then we make for Edoras in the morning,” he said, throwing some brown grass in the fire. “And pray that we are not delayed further. We’re close enough that I doubt much else could go wrong—”

“Go ahead and curse us why don’t you?!” Nori snapped. “Everyone knows that when you say one of the two W words, something terrible happens anyway!”

Thorin stared at him. He wouldn’t have had to deal with such nonsense with Dwalin! “Nori, that is rather illogical, don’t you think?”

“Considering what one deems illogical. I’ve seen enough madness happen before I wouldn’t put anything past me. Nor risk it. Take first watch, will you? I’m going to bed.”

Thorin let him go, it’s not like he would be able to sleep well enough anyway. He took the letter out again, still the only comfort he had these nights…

He wondered what he’d do with it after he found Bilbo. Would he burn it? Or would the words written here be the last words Bilbo would ever have for him?

_No, he’s alive. He has to be. Please, Mahal, may he still be alive. I can’t lose him. Not after everything I’ve done to find him. Please…_

Thorin leaned forward till his head was between his knees, his hair curtained around his face.

_Bilbo…Ghivashel…Marleluh…_

#

“When my guard told me you were looking for a Hobbit, I had wondered if it was the same one I met in Minas Tirith,” King Thingol said. “I am glad that he has family to return to. You may, if you like, come with my host, Lord Thorin. We will be returning to Gondor for Queen Gilraen’s coronation.”

Thorin shook his head. “This is enough,” he said. “He was still in Minas Tirith when you left?”

“Yes, it may be many ages till he is able to travel anywhere, actually.”

Thorin’s blood came cold. “What do you mean?”

“Has news not reached you?” Thingol asked, his eyebrows rising. “He went to Mordor to dispose of the One Ring. He is alive, but that journey…”

Thorin’s sat down before his legs gave way. Bilbo was alive. He went to Mordor.

_By Mahal, he went to Mordor!_

And he thought sending him into a dragon’s den was bad. What madness possessed Bilbo to go there?

“Gandalf has stayed there, I take it that would be a comfort,” Thingol’s young son Théoden said, perhaps in hopes of calming Thorin.

And at last, the mystery pieced itself together.

He could imagine what had happened all those months ago. He could guess that Bilbo went back to his office or their chamber to nurse his growing anger to find Gandalf there. Could see them discuss that foul ring Bilbo had used before. He could almost hear the words pour forth from Gandalf’s mouth, bidding him to abandon his family for the sake of a cruel quest. He could see Bilbo write the letter resting in his pocket and packing his things for his journey while the ink dried.

“Gandalf is with him?”

“You do not seem pleased with such news. Is Gandalf not a friend?”

Thorin stood. “I beg your pardon, Lord Thingol, I must go to Minas Tirith immediately.”

“Immediately?!” Théoden asked. “But you’ve just arrived not an hour ago!”

“And were I not as furious as I am now, I would remain! As it is, I have a wizard to murder!” He ignored their shock, striding from the hall with his jaw clenched tightly.

“Thorin!” Nori shouted. “At least stay and eat!”

Thorin mounted Labamrazkh and urged the pony into a gallop, ignoring Nori’s pleas. After he passed Dunharrow, Nori caught up to him and seized Labamrazkh’s reigns.

“What are you doing?!”

“Saving your pony!” Nori shouted, urging them to a halt. “I care not for the wizard, but what would happen to you if you dared approach him with such ill intent?! Bilbo would—”

“HE WENT TO MORDOR, NORI!!!” Thorin bellowed. “HE WENT TO MORDOR!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?!! HE WOULD NEVER HAVE DARED GO TO THAT PLACE IF NOT FOR GANDALF’S MEDDLING!!!”

“I get that you are angry. But going in red faced and spittle flying everywhere will do nothing but get you turned to ash. Take into consideration that Bilbo is alive. He’s alive, Thorin.”

“And how long had it been since Thingol was in Minas Tirith?”

“I am sure Bilbo is staying through the coronation at least, Thorin, okay? We have time. Or would you have Bilbo’s first sight of you in nearly six months be you spitting mad and threatening Gandalf?”

Thorin shook his head. “Why?” he mumbled. “After all this time, I know where he is, I don’t know if I can wait any more.”

“We aren’t there yet. Use the time to let Labamrazkh and Dezeb rest. And to rest yourself. I know you’ve been run ragged through this journey, but if you’ve not thought about what you’d say to Bilbo before, now would be the time.”

“And what would I say?” Thorin asked quietly. Nori didn’t respond. Or could not. Thorin wasn’t sure which. “Exactly,” he said. “I don’t even know what I will say to him. All I know, is that whatever is said between us must be said in privacy because all I know, all I fear, is that we are going to fight. Again. And will probably keep fighting until we can forgive each other. I don’t want to rest, if the horses need it, then you take them, but I will continue on for as long as I can dare to go.”

Nori shook his head. “You _need_ to rest. You _need_ to calm down. Running Labamrazkh ragged won’t do you any good. You know that. I get that you don’t want to wait any more, but we are still a long ways away from Minas Tirith. So use the time wisely. Come on, let’s make camp. We’ll let Labamrazkh rest for a few hours, and we’ll leave in the morning.”

With little other options open to him, Thorin climbed off Labamrazkh and unloaded his burden, making the fire while Nori removed the bites and reins, setting them by a tree before heading to the fire Thorin was struggling to light. Nori took the knife and flint from him.

“Rest,” he said. “I’ve got this.”

Thorin let him do as he pleased, watching the fire build to embers. At least he had something to blame his watering eyes over besides outrage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~  
> Ghivashel=treasure of all treasures  
> Marleluh=my love


	8. Chapter 8

It was near dusk when Thorin and Nori entered Minas Tirith. Gondor had good stone, battered and ragged from constant attack, but strong and still singing. There was also greenery. Moss draping down the sides and flowers bloomed despite the telltale signs of adversity.

It was dark by the time they arrived at the top and the stars burned bright above them, like a tapestry of black and silver.

The doors opened as they passed by a white tree that was just beginning to bloom and a young Man approached. He was in what Bilbo had dubbed “tween years,” not yet a man, but neither a boy. He leaned on a cane and his leg was bound. Thorin stared at it a moment. A war wound or something else?

He was so young…

“Welcome to Minas Tirith, Thorin Oakenshield,” he said, bowing his head respectfully. Thorin paused. “I am Denethor, son of Ecthelion.”

“You know my name?”

“The news of Dwarves entering my citadel is not a rumor that is heard every day.”

“You’re but a boy.”

“My father passed in battle, and therefore the title of Steward goes to me.”

“I thought there was going to be some coronation of a lady,” Nori said, arms crossed. “Or are those more lies and rumors?”

“They are not. Lady Gilraen sent me to welcome you in her place as she is still presiding over our victory feasts. There is much to celebrate, you see?” He shifted his weight off his cane, turning back toward the gate. “You are welcome to join us, if you like.”

“I have no heart for feasting,” Thorin said. “I seek someone in your midst, a Hobbit. Is he here?”

A shadow seemed to cover Denethor’s face. “He is not taking visitors right now. But he is here and he is alive. He said he hailed from Erebor, so we guessed it was only a matter of time before Dwarves came, but I did not expect so small a party.”

“I suppose you would not. I care not if he is unwilling to take visitors. He is important to me and I would like to see him.”

“And I said he is not willing to see anyone. Of Erebor or the Shire or not, the Hobbit is a hero of Gondor and as such, I would protect him as he had me.”

Nori coughed into his sleeve, suppressing a laugh as Thorin’s patience thinned.

His hands fisted at his sides. “You are a merely a steward, Denethor son of Ecthelion,” he growled. “And I am a Dwarf Lord, King of one of the greatest kingdoms in Middle Earth. I demand you let me see him.”

“I cannot,” Denethor said. “You are welcome to join our feast. Rooms will be made for you, but Bilbo isn’t taking visitors until tomorrow morning. He needs to rest.”

“And these are his orders?” Nori asked before Thorin could attack.

“They are.”

Nori nodded and leaned to Thorin’s ear.

“He is not lying, Thorin. He holds Bilbo in some high respect and I do not think he intends to budge from this spot if you push the matter. Bilbo is here and he is alive. We can wait a few more hours, can we not? You can eat, wash up, get some decent sleep and see him in the morning. All right? Just a little longer and then we can see him.”

“And how much longer after that?” Thorin asked.

“I swear on my sword,” Denethor said, bowing again. “You may see him tomorrow. He always joins me and Lady Gilraen for breakfast.”

Thorin grit his teeth. “Fine,” he growled. “Lead the way, Lad.”

“I’m _sixteen_ ,” Denethor groused. “I’m not a lad.”

“When you grow more than few chin hairs, then we can talk about whether you’re a lad or not,” Nori said with a wink as they entered the hall.

Men were drinking and eating in grandeur, at the end table was a woman, fair of face and her hair pulled into a braid, draped over her shoulder. She wore a blue Elven gown and a circlet over her brow.

To her right was another tween boy, grim of face and dark. Denethor walked around the table and sat to her left, whispering in her ear. She squeezed his shoulder and stood. The hall quieted.

“Welcome Thorin son of Thrain,” she said.

“You are Queen Gilraen?” he asked.

“I am not queen yet,” Gilraen said, arching a brow. “Come and eat your fill while the servants set up rooms for you.”

Two chairs were brought to the head table for them. Thorin eyed them suspiciously. “I thank you, Lady,” he said as he and Nori joined her table. Thorin sat beside the boy on the right and the feast continued.

“We expected more Dwarves of Erebor,” she said, “Even set aside a spare table for your party.”

“Our journey was not meant to be known,” Thorin admitted. "I am surprised that you knew we were coming.”

“Thingol sent word to use after your hasty depart,” she said. “It is not so strange that we would expect you after that.” The unnamed boy picked at his food, glaring at his plate. It reminded him of Kili when he was not in the best of moods or health. “You’re journey was untroubled, was it not?”

“There was some trouble on the roads. Bandits, slave traders, nothing we can’t handle,” Thorin said, tearing at a piece of bread. “Your young steward forbade me from seeing Master Bilbo.”

“He asked to be alone this evening. Since news of your imminent arrival came, he’d been a little jumpy.”

“Tell me truly then, he is not here because of me or is he indisposed.”

“Indisposed,” the boy to Gilraen’s right said without hesitation. He looked at Thorin. “The journey was difficult and traveling without a companion into that land…he wouldn’t have lived if not for my mother’s interference. I’ve been treating him myself as best I can—and yes, I am a healer. I studied the art under the Elves of Rivendell.”

“Aragorn,” Gilraen snapped.

“He has a rattling cough,” Aragorn continued. “And we almost had to amputate his arm—”

Gilraen seized his shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“He is alive,” she assured Thorin. “And he is getting better, but he will get better in our climate better than he could in Erebor. But still, he wishes to be alone right now. I am sure you need time to think of what you’ll say to him as well—”

“I have given thought to it for nearly six months,” Thorin said. “I need to see him.”

“And you will see him,” Gilraen promised. “But you must understand: he did not expect to survive the journey.” Aragorn stood, dismissing himself. She sighed. “Teenagers.”

Thorin managed a weak chuckle. He knew what she meant.

#

Thorin did not sleep. How could he with Bilbo so close?

The hours of the night waged on, long and relentless as a siege. He managed to get a little bit of sleep, but it was a mix of tossing and turning in bed and getting up and pacing the floor of the room. He stepped onto the balcony at dawn and watched the sun rise over the mountains in the east.

He bathed and dressed, and was called to a smaller hall for breakfast.

No one was there, save a small figure seated at the table, twisting a band around his finger. He was thin, but not gaunt, though there are certain signs that a few weeks ago, he must have been starved horridly through the journey.

As Thorin stepped closer, he could see other injuries. Bilbo’s shoulder is bandaged, one of his ears is mangled, like Dwalin’s, as if it were almost bitten off. Both of his feet are bound in linen and a cane rests against the table.

Bilbo didn’t once look up. He twisted his wedding band around his finger. His marriage braid was in, but not the bead. It was tied with a ribbon.

Thorin pulled a chair out for him to sit and he took Bilbo’s hands.

“I have been told two rather different tales. The first being that you left because you are angry with me,” he said. “And the second is that you left for Mordor.”

Bilbo closed his eyes. “Both are true,” he said, gaze still averted to their hands. “I had it all explained in another letter for you. I told Gilraen to give it to you if you ever came this way if I died. Gandalf made sure I made it back. But I don’t…I don’t know if this is better.”

If his heart was broken when Bilbo had left, it did not compare to this ache, like glass shards inside him, at this confession.

“Why did you follow me? Even if you went in the wrong direction at first, you still followed.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Thorin asked. “I love you. Right now, I’m more concerned that you went on a suicide mission, Bilbo. Did you really think I would not notice you missing? Did you even think of what would become of me if I lost you to death?”

“You misunderstand: I did not want to die. It was the most likely outcome of this quest, and often it felt like it would be the only way to succeed. I almost didn’t, Thorin, but I did. But when I close my eyes, I’m back in Mordor again and it robs me of my sleep.”

“I’m here now, all right? I’m here.”

“As opposed to the last year?” Bilbo asked, looking at him at last. “I know the last few months were my own doing, but it was necessary. But before? Before you hardly looked at me. Can you even recall the last time we spent time together, longer than a few minutes, or even the last time we were intimate? I was going to talk to Balin about it, ask him to schedule the following day off so I could properly chew your head off, but then Gandalf told me about my ring and what it was and I wasn’t going to risk you getting gold mad again, especially if you found out about it, so I left. Granted, I was still quite furious at the time, but the longer the ring remained, the stronger it’s power grew, so it was a matter of sooner-the-better, you see? I did not wish to leave in such a manner.”

“If you did not wish it, you would not have done it. It was the wizard’s urging, wasn’t it?”

“Gandalf did not and does not know about our problems,” Bilbo said. “But yes, he did seem to think the sooner I left, the better. I think he guessed you’d follow me sooner or later, as he was surprised that you never caught up to us. I told him nothing, only that if you had followed us, you were likely going in the wrong direction. That and I didn’t think you’d dare leave Erebor…”

“You are still angry at me, though I am here now. And only my relief at seeing you again holds back my own rage at your foolishness. You _left_ , Bilbo, without a word to anyone, because the wizard bid you to go. I do not care for whatever journey he sent you on. I feared the worst and did not dwell on it because to dwell on such fears…”

Bilbo looked at his feet. “I’m not sorry for doing what needed to be done,” he said. “But I have regretted how I left and tried to justify it by telling myself it was for the best and you would be all right—”

“Mahal’s forge, Bilbo, HOW CAN I BE ALL RIGHT?!” Thorin banged his fist on the table and it shook, the dishes rattled, and Bilbo barely flinched. Thorin uncurled his fist, focusing on his breathing. “I’m sorry. I’ve missed you and that you journeyed into Mordor frightens me. I know you are a brave man with a valiant heart and it _frightens_ me, Bilbo. Gandalf, again, used you. He could have taken the ring and destroyed it himself or found someone unbound to do it instead.”

“If it were that easy to do, do you really think he wouldn’t have done it? You have too little faith in Gandalf.”

“And you’ve too much,” Thorin said.

They stared at each other. At last Bilbo leaned back. “Are you hungry? We might as well eat.”

“If you like,” Thorin said. “I have no appetite.” He stood and strode for the door. He glanced back, hoping that maybe Bilbo would at least watch him go. He wasn’t watching him and Thorin couldn’t bear it. He returned and knelt at Bilbo’s side. “Bilbo, look at me. I will not leave.”

“You were going to.”

“I was. Just to my room. Bilbo, we have wronged each other again and we can fix this, can’t we? We got through worse than this.”

“I suppose I’m just tired of seeing your back.”

“I will abdicate the throne. Fili already sits on it. We can stay here till then and return home later. Or we can stay here. Or we can go back to the Shire or we can go to Mithlond. I won’t deny I am upset, but this is better than I hoped. You’re alive and you still love me, don’t you? _Ghivashel_ , please…”

“You’re upset.” He scoffed. “I didn’t leave in some juvenile attempt to get your attention, Thorin.”

“I know,” Thorin said. “I know. But that doesn’t mean I am not upset that you left. We will talk about it in depth later.”

“You abandoned me.”

“I am here, am I not?”

“I thought you were going mad again.”

“I’m not. Bilbo,” he reached for his braid, “Ask me anything and I will do it.”

“I want to eat,” Bilbo said. “Will you let me? Stay or go. I care not. Just let me eat.” Thorin nodded and sat again, Bilbo reached for the food and the rest of the meal passed in cold silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Denethor was born ~2929 or 2930, which would make him 11 or 12 when the company went to reclaim Erebor. This story is approximately 3-4 years after the events of the battle, so he’s 15-16 here. And Estel is 13-14 (book verse, not movie verse. Things move faster in the movies than they did in the books)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of torture

“How is he?” Nori asked when Thorin returned from breakfast.

Thorin sighed, removing his coat.

“Thorin?”

“He’s alive and well. Eating, thankfully. He lost more weight than I expected he would, but he’s working on that, thankfully.”

“And?”

Thorin sat down. “What? You want a recap of what happened? He didn’t jump back into my arms, if that’s what you want to hear. He barely looked at me, Nori. He barely noticed I was there.”

“I’m sure things will be fine once we return to Erebor.”

“I’m not going back to Erebor.”

Nori paused and stared at him. “Ah…did I hear you right? I’m quite sure you’re still the king.”

“The last few months, I had not sat on the throne. It would be another few months to make it so that Fili is the King of Erebor. That was the agreement I had with him and Balin."

“Yes, it is, but you _found_ Bilbo within that time frame. I’m sure he’ll perk up now that you’re here.”

Thorin shook his head. “Nori, you weren’t there and you aren’t listening: he _wouldn’t look at me_. He didn’t care when I, in anger, decided to leave. It was childish, looking on it now, but still he didn’t care. He just…it’s my husband and yet it’s _not_ him. The fire he once possessed is gone.”

Nori frowned and knelt. “Thorin, it is Bilbo we speak of. Fire cannot ever truly be killed. All you need is a proper shelter and dry kindling.”

Thorin scoffed. It was not that easy. It was _never_ that easy.

Nori stood and stretched. “I’m going to go look around. How about you go to Bilbo? You can’t help him if you’re wallowing in self-loathing.”

He disappeared out the window and Thorin ran his hand through his hair and bit his lip. Bilbo’s marriage bead needed to be remade…he stood and decided to start there, heading out of the room and down the hall, asking after that boy, Denethor.

Once found, he requested the use of a forge.

“I can show you were the royal forge is. I’m sure the blacksmith won’t mind loaning it to you for a few hours,” he said. “What are you going to make?”

“That would be private,” Thorin growled.

Denethor rolled his eyes. “Fine. Keep your secrets. How’s Bilbo?”

“You’re quite close to him,” Thorin said rather than answer.

Denethor shrugged. “He’s impressive, I suppose. No one would have guessed someone that small would be able to do what he did and survive. I know I wouldn’t have. I was near the Ring only a time or two and it took immense strength not to listen to its call. Even Lady Gilraen said it was hard for her to push it aside. And then there’s also his physical strength—true, it’s not as it was before because of how weakened he was in Mordor—but he could take down a full grown, eight foot tall Orc! It was amazing to see! Even our best warriors wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“Hobbits are a remarkable race. I used to underestimate them,” Thorin said. “They are stronger than either of us can understand, but mentally and physically. I fear, though, that Bilbo is not the same as he was before.”

“Mordor would do that to you. I’m sure he’ll be fine. It’s probably just a touch of Warrior’s Sickness,” Denethor said. He stopped outside an open house with smoke rising from its roof. “This is it. So what are you making again—”

“I never said and I will not say,” Thorin snapped, glaring at him.

Denethor huffed. “Fine.”

After words were exchanged with the blacksmith, Thorin got to work on Bilbo’s new bead. The bead originally made for him was made of mithril with a Durin sapphire and rune.

This one would be so much simpler, made of cheaper metal than what Bilbo was meant to him, but the lack of the bead in his hair ate at Thorin in such a way that even a simple iron bead with just the rune would do.

He still had his wedding ring, at least.

Thorin worked through lunch and it was near dinner by the time he had finished.

He washed and dressed in fresher clothes—gifted by the servants under Denethor’s employ—and went in search of Bilbo. He found him outside the dining room, leaning on his cane and staring at the ground. His eyes had dark circles underneath…

Thorin cleared his throat and Bilbo looked up.

“Yes?” he asked.

“May I speak with you in private?”

“Again? Truly, I thought this morning would be enough.”

“Can we _not_ fight?” Thorin asked. “I don’t want to fight you, Bilbo. Will you grant me my request?”

Bilbo nodded and led him into another room. “What is it?”

“I noticed your bead was missing,” Thorin said once they were alone.

“Lost it, I made do with what I had available,” he said, fingering the ribbon.

Thorin opened his hand to show him the bead. “It is not what you deserve from me. Had I the time and material I would remake it as it was before. As it is, there is only iron available at a moment’s notice.”

Bilbo took the bead, rolling it around his fingers.

“May I put it in?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo nodded, turning his head so that Thorin could fix the braid, ribbon abandoned on the floor and bead in its place. He kissed the top of his head and Bilbo pulled away.

“What are you doing?” Bilbo asked, glaring at him.

“Bilbo—”

“After all this time, do you really think that I’d let you kiss me?”

“I acted on impulse.”

“Well, I’m not very fond of your _impulse_ , Thorin!”

Thorin knelt, reaching for his hands. Bilbo stepped back, crossing them over his chest.

“Bilbo,” he said, “I’m your husband. I am going to kiss you and if you think I overstepped…I don’t understand your ire, it wasn’t as though I was forcing you to kiss me. I missed you, _Ghivasha_ , and I will ask, if that is what you want, but please don’t be angry at me for giving you the affection I should have been giving you. I know I have failed to be the husband I vowed to be, but if you are willing to give me another chance…” He swallowed thickly. “Mahal knows I missed you dearly.”

Bilbo sighed, arms slackening. “I’m sorry, too.” He swallowed. “Mordor was…” Bilbo closed his eyes. “I was caught by Orcs just before destroying the Ring. It had stayed in my waistcoat the whole time and they stripped me of that and my shirt. They tortured me, Thorin. They shaved my feet.”

Thorin’s stomach churned and fury burned inside him.

“So a touch, really, it’s a bit much still. I know you don’t mean harm. I know that you won’t hurt me. At least in the physical sense, though in the emotional sense I still have my doubts.”

Thorin swallowed. “May I hug you?” he asked.

Bilbo hesitated at first, licking his lips. He nodded and Thorin stood. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Bilbo. He could feel Bilbo relax against him, but he refused to return the hug.

“Please trust me as you once did. I’m here now, _amrâlimê_. I’m not going anywhere.”

He wanted to kiss him…wanted to hold him and comfort him.

It felt ridiculous that he couldn’t just offer his One the love he had for him. It was madness that he was pushed back to a place where he couldn’t do what was natural for a husband to do.

 _I put myself here_ , he thought, biting his lip. “I love you, Bilbo, I always have and always will.”

“Then _why_? Why did you push me aside if you love me? Why?” He pounded his fist against Thorin’s breast. “I’m your _husband_ , Thorin! But you _never once_ before I left acted like that save for a _bloody kiss goodnight!_ How could you even _think_ that would be enough?!” He stopped beating his fist and gripped Thorin’s tunic instead, shoulders shaking. “How was I supposed to believe you loved me at all?”

Thorin exhaled and knelt, gently prying Bilbo’s hand off and pressed his other hand to Bilbo’s cheek.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere without you and I am _not_ making such a grievous mistake again. A part of me will _never_ understand how you can forgive me for everything I have done to you, Bilbo. I will never understand how you can forgive me of nearly killing you. Sometimes I wonder why you stayed without any fear that I would…”

“I knew it was the gold. I knew you were sick and that you weren’t yourself. I wasn’t going to punish you for something I know you still punish yourself for,” Bilbo said. “Which is why that is so much different from why I left. It is one thing to leave when you are in fear of your life. Quite another when you think you are not loved by those who said they would. So, you see, Thorin. You can say you love me as much as you want and make as many baubles as you like, I can’t believe that right now. I’m sure one day I’ll be able to believe you, but right now, it just feels like a ploy.”

“I know,” Thorin said, wiping away Bilbo’s tears. “I know. I don’t care how long it takes for you to trust me again. I will say it as many times as it takes, make as many baubles as I can…I’ll learn to cook and make you a garden if that’s what you want of me. We will stay here, if you wish it. But I’m not leaving you alone again, especially not if it means I may lose you forever. I can’t lose you again, Bilbo. And I know this is still not enough, but the promise is true enough. I would not lie about what I feel for you.”

Bilbo sniffed. “We should go to dinner,” he said. “Before Gilraen starts wondering where I am and sends Denethor after me.”

“Maybe you could explain his fascination with you?”

“He’s a boy, Thorin. He is no threat: there is a lass he does have his eyes on. His ‘fascination’ is merely respect as a student would for a teacher.”

Well, Bilbo was quite popular with children and tweenagers back in Erebor as well. Gimli used to follow him around and run errands till he was put on the King’s guard. And if he was interested in a girl, then there was no reason to have need to chase the boy off.

Bilbo was smiling—it wasn’t his full smile, but it was still there. “He’s actually been asking me about you all day. And yes, he knows we’re married. He is baffled, but not in an unpleasant way. Same as Aragorn. I think they’re just curious, so expect them to be asking questions one day about how a marriage between two males can be possible. So far, I only told them that marriage is never supposed to be about having children. I’m afraid same-sex unions aren’t looked on in the same light among Elves and Men as Dwarves see it. And no, they don’t know that you can bear if we were to choose to have children.”

Thorin opened the door. “Good. That is not something that I would want Men to find out about, but if they ask, I will talk to them openly and honestly, so long as it is merely to ease their curiosity.” They stepped outside into the hallway. “Nori is here.”

“Nori?! I thought if you were to travel with anyone, it’d be Dwalin.”

“And separate him from Ori? I think not.”

“Fair enough. How was it travelling with _Nori_?”

“Unexpected. I left alone. Nori followed and we met up in Bree.”

Bilbo laughed. “Bree?! You _definitely_ went the wrong direction!”

“I thought you had gone to the Shire.”

“Why would I go back there? I don’t belong in the Shire anymore, Thorin.”

“Are you sure? You have a rather nasty shrew living in your house.”

Bilbo stopped at the door and turned around. “Nasty shrew? Is it a brunette with a bit of a pig’s nose? Looks like someone stuck dung under it?”

Thorin nodded. Bilbo ground his teeth and took a breath. “I’ll deal with that tomorrow. I _knew_ I should have written the Thain…” He pushed the doors open and they entered.

* * *

 ~Khuzdul~

Ghivasha=Treasure

Amrâlimê=my love (possibly misspelled. Correct me if it is and I’ll fix it! Thanks!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interviewer: What hobbies do you have?  
> Me: Crushing souls and shredding hearts.  
> Interviewer: What??  
> Me: What?


	10. Chapter 10

There were good days and there were bad days. Most days tended to fall into the middle, though, such as Bilbo having a rough morning and barely looking at anyone as he ate, sometimes locking himself in his rooms for a bit.

Gilraen thought it best to let him weather the storm, but the only thing that convinced Thorin of was that she didn’t know how to handle a case of Warrior’s Sickness.

Although…

Thorin only knew how to deal with his own Warrior’s Sickness and trying to get Bilbo to open up to him about what was haunting him—the physical and the mental torture, the days of starvation and dehydration—was almost impossible.

He wouldn’t speak to anyone about it, no matter how much Thorin pleaded, though sometimes it was easier to get him to open up on a day that was good.

And Nori, well, he simply didn’t know how to get Bilbo to laugh again and if it were Bofur, that would probably have hurt him. Still, Nori wasn’t one to give up on the first try.

Nor the tenth.

“How about you write the company,” he said. “Tell them you’re okay?”

Bilbo hugged his knees a little tighter and shook his head.

Thorin shot Nori a warning glare, ready to throw him back inside and shut the doors if he pressed Bilbo to do what he didn’t want to. Nori, thankfully, could take a _no_ better than Dori could (and Dori would be much harder to throw out), and let it be with a pat to his shoulder.

“When you’re ready then,” he said. “Everyone’s worried about you.”

Bilbo wasn’t in a talking mood today, it seemed, though it didn’t seem like it would be a “bad day.” That could change at the slightest provocation. Nori stood and approached Thorin.

“You’re sure about staying?”

“Yes,” Thorin said. “I can’t let him just…waste away.”

“He’s _not_ wasting away. He’s hurting.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Thorin hissed. “He won’t talk to me, Nori.”

“Does he know about your own Warrior’s Sickness?”

“Of course he does,” Thorin said. He glanced at Bilbo. “And I am trying. I don’t know how else to help him.”

“Well, it’s almost time for tea, isn’t it? How about I see what’s in the kitchens and bring it up. You and he can have a bite to eat and I’ll try see if there are any questions to our presence.”

Thorin nodded and joined Bilbo on the balcony. “Bilbo?” Bilbo looked at him. “Are you hungry, _Ghivashel_?”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, scooting away from Thorin, enough to be out of reach if Thorin tried. He didn’t, laying his hands on his knees.

“But that is what you are to me,” he said. He licked his lips, deciding not to push the matter. “Nori went to get food and tea. When he comes back, we’ll eat, all right?”

Bilbo didn’t respond. Thorin curled his fingers inward to stop himself from reaching for him. It was getting harder to keep his distance, harder to accept Bilbo’s non-desire for him and his presence, and harder to keep asking permission to touch. Even if only just to hug him, pretend he was close in both body and mind.

_Tell me what to do. I’ll do it. Just don’t push me away._

He swallowed and stared at his fists.

Was this how Bilbo felt: slowly feeling more and more as though he was just filling empty space and that his presence wasn’t even wholly recognized? It hurt and Thorin didn’t think Bilbo would be so cruel. Maybe he didn’t realize he was doing it…

Like Thorin did.

“Bilbo, I understand,” he said, looking up. “I understand, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, _amrâlimê_.”

Bilbo stood and went inside, shutting the door with more force then necessary.

#

Gilraen’s coronation was a sight to behold. She had dressed in a gown of white and silver with a circlet of Mithril on her brow.

“Now come the days of the Queen,” Gandalf announced.

Thorin honored Gilraen’s coronation as best he could, given his mood. No one deserved to have a fight break out at a feast in his or her honor and as she sang, his gaze locked with Gandalf’s. Gandalf arched a brow at him as Thorin bit back a snarl.

The people bowed and by the time she made it to Bilbo, begged him not to bow and she knelt, followed by the rest. Bilbo looked rather confused and a bit scared.

Of course, he would.

Bilbo _hated_ having attention drawn to him for any reason. He knew and accepted the duties that came with being consort, but _this_ …

This was a bit too much.

As soon as the bowing stopped and the people headed inside for the feast and the dancing, Thorin moved over to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and taking Bilbo’s hand in his, leading him aside and kneeling.

“Are you okay?” he asked, perhaps a little more sternly than he intended.

“I hadn’t a clue she was going to do that. I’d have liked a little warning.”

“I’ll talk to her—”

“No. I know what you’re version of ‘talking’ involves. You won’t shame her for it, Thorin.”

Thorin sighed. “All right,” he said. “I’ll leave it be. I’m only concerned for your wellbeing.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bilbo, you’re not fine. You know that and you simply refuse to talk to me about it though I can help you if you let me.”

“What need would I have for your help?” Bilbo snapped, glaring at him. “Since when had it mattered to you how I fare? Since when had it _mattered_?”

“It always mattered,” Thorin said, cupping his face in his hands. “It always mattered. I was a fool, I’ll admit that, but you should have talked to me about it as soon as my attention to work started to bother you rather than wait it out! Shutting me out now isn’t going to help you heal, let alone our marriage. Let me in, Bilbo. _Talk_ to me. You won’t shock me and I won’t be angry with you.”

Bilbo sniffed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Thorin pressed their foreheads together. “I love you and I always will, but _please_ talk to me. Whatever is going on. Our marriage. Your quest. Any of it, I’ll listen. Just don’t push me away anymore. Be angry. Hit me. Yell at me, but don’t shut me out. I could help you if you would _just let me_ , Bilbo.”

“How can you help me? You don’t know what happened to me? You don’t…my feet…”

“I don’t care. I _don’t_. I love you and it hurts me to see you like this, Bilbo. It hurts that you keep pushing me away when I am trying to fix my mistake.”

Bilbo bit his lip and nodded. Thorin kissed his forehead on instinct, half realizing after pressing his lips to Bilbo’s skin that he wasn’t being pushed aside.

It was a small thing, but it was hope and he clung to it.

He pulled away. “Hungry? Let’s go inside and eat.”

“I don’t want to be around people.”

“We’ll have dinner in your room then. You can go straight to bed afterward. I’ll be right down the hall if you need me.”

Bilbo nodded and Thorin led him inside, he signed at Nori to bring food and to apologize to Gilraen for their absence. Bilbo feeling ill should be enough to convince her.

Once safe in Bilbo’s room, Thorin let him go and locked the door, deciding to keep it closed unless Nori returned with food.

Then he’d kick Nori out.

Turning to Bilbo, he saw him sitting at the table with his hands in his lap. Thorin approached and knelt at his feet, leaning against the chair.

“Why are you doing that?” Bilbo asked.

Thorin looked at him. “What?”

“You never submit to anyone. Not like this, anyway. Most I ever got before was nod.”

Thorin turned around and took Bilbo’s hands. They twitched, as though Bilbo might pull away and Thorin certainly gave him enough room to pull away if he wished, but then his hands stilled.

“I don’t know what happened to you in Mordor, beyond that you were sick most of the time and that your feet were shaved. But even then, I don’t want you to see me as a threat, so I’m not submitting so much as that I’m trying not to seem like a threat to you. I know you’re angry, but if you were to be scared of me, I don’t…I don’t know what I would do. Plus it helps you open up to me, if just a little bit.”

“It would help more if you acted like yourself.”

“How am I not myself?” Thorin asked. “Do you want me to be angry that you left? I’m more hurt than angry, and if I’m angry at anyone it’s Gandalf for putting you in this position, _Ghivashel_.”

“Will you get off the floor, please? It can’t be good on your knees.”

Thorin stood and sat down in a chair instead and took Bilbo’s hands back. They were slowly thickening again, still bony, but not as bony as they had been.

“What would you want of me?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I want you to be my husband again, but even then I’m not really sure what that means anymore. I just know I missed you actually being there for me. And I don’t understand this patience of yours. I don’t understand how you could still love me so much when you’ve hardly paid me any attention. And there’s also the matter of Erebor. You have to go back, don’t you?”

“No,” Thorin said. “I’m not going anywhere without you. This is the second time I almost lost you. I’m not risking that again. I’m not letting you go so easily…unless…unless you want me to.” He swallowed. “I am not perfect, Bilbo, you know that. And I have hurt you enough, have I not? If you want me gone, I will go. I will be heartbroken, but I will go.”

Bilbo shook his head. “I don’t want you gone. I want to feel loved again. I want more than what our marriage became. I always did and I’m sorry, I know I probably have been doing the same thing because of how I feel lately and I don’t…I don’t mean to do that, I just…”

Thorin touched his cheek and Bilbo gasped, tears spilling down his cheeks.

“I know. I know, _Ghivashel,_ I know. We’ll get through this together as we should. Everything will be all right. I’ll be here for you. Please, _Ghivashel_ , don’t cry. I’m here.”

Bilbo lunged at him, burying his face in Thorin’s chest and wept.

When Nori came, Thorin took the food and told him to enjoy the rest of the night. Nori didn’t ask for an explanation. He bade them goodnight and headed back to the banquet.

The food remained on the table, untouched as Thorin comforted Bilbo as much as he could.

He wished he could do more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! (No, this isn't the end of the story, jsk)  
> The next story I start, will be happy. It will be tooth-rotting and fluffy.  
> Why?  
> I have 8 stories that I'm working on out of the 9 stories total (one's for the In The Flesh Big Bang) that are little else but angst ridden, tear-jerking pain! Oh, and story #9? At an angsty spot.  
> Yeah. I think it's time to get started on something happy


	11. Chapter 11

“Gandalf,” Thorin said at the end of the meeting, “Might I have a word with you privately?”

Gandalf nodded and followed him.

“I suppose it concerns Bilbo.”

“More that I must know why you decided my husband should walk through Mordor alone,” Thorin said. “And before you ask why _I_ was not there, we were having problems that I was unaware of until his departure. We’re working on that now, but this venture you sent him on could have killed him.”

Gandalf said nothing, meeting Thorin’s glare. At last, Gandalf sat down at the table and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him.

“It was not my intention to let Bilbo walk into Mordor alone. There were others who had joined him along the way. Gilraen was one, Denethor another, Haldir of Lothlorien, Beorn…I had expected you to come with us or at least catch up eventually. I did not know until now that your marriage was strained. But to answer your question, Bilbo broke away from the company when young Denethor attacked him in an attempt of getting the ring. His father was of the mind that it was needed. The boy had been broken about it. He looks up to Bilbo, sees him as an uncle that was more a father to him than his own father ever was. Attacking him hurt them both, so to ensure no one else was tempted, Bilbo left alone. Much of what happened was not my intent. I cannot change what happened to Bilbo in Mordor, though I grieve it every day and thank the Valar that he survived. Truly, Thorin, I expected you to follow us.”

“I did. Bilbo sent me in another direction entirely.”

Gandalf pinched the bridge of his nose. “I see. And that is why it took you till now to arrive.”

“Aye.”

“And with only one other member of the company and no other entourage...”

“I was led to believe he was furious with me and I did not want to alert him to my presence before we could talk. He did not lie, but he did not tell the whole tale. For months, I thought he wanted to leave me. And if he were to decide that he did not want to be…” He sucked in a breath.

It was nearly too painful to think of.

Gandalf shook his head. “I am not married, but I have seen many couples over the years, Thorin. Bilbo loves you and I know how much you treasure him. I have seen you both every step of the way and I am impressed with whom you’ve both become, as men, as husbands, and as kings. Bilbo loves you. He is hurt, but he would not break your heart. I think the two of you have had quite enough pain in your relationship. That isn’t to say there isn’t going to be any more. The past cannot be changed, but your presence can help Bilbo heal. I am certain of that. There is hope yet.”

Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“As far as I can tell, there is nothing to fix. You’re here. Bilbo loves you still, he is hurting and he is suffering, but that does not make him broken, nor does it make your marriage broken or damaged. Trials come and go like a storm at sea. I have seen many trials and tribulations among allies, friends, and even enemies. You can and will get through this. From what I can tell, you are doing everything exactly right. You are here, you are making sure Bilbo knows you’re available without forcing your presence on him, but you are not giving up. Neither will Bilbo give up so long as he knows he has your support and love. Both of which I have no doubt of. You are not a bad husband, Thorin. You are mortal and mortals make mistakes. Mistakes happen. All you can do when mistakes are made is right them. It doesn’t change what you did, but you will get through it and you and Bilbo both will be stronger for it. I do not regret my decision to send Bilbo to destroy the Ring. He has been rather formidable in its presence and he did very well. What I do regret is how it has affected him. If I could change the past, I would not let him go to Mordor alone. That was never my intention in the slightest.”

“As it is, nothing can be done.”

“No, not nothing,” Gandalf said. “You’re here. You are his husband. If anyone can help him heal, it’s you, Thorin.”

Thorin scoffed. He intended to yell at Gandalf and he was given advice instead. The maddening irony was that Thorin normally wouldn’t listen. Perhaps he was simply that desperate that he would listen to Gandalf’s advice for once.

“I can’t heal him if he keeps pushing me away.”

“Is he, though?”

_I want to feel loved again. I want more than what our marriage became. I always did and I’m sorry, I know I probably have been doing the same thing because of how I feel lately and I don’t…_

_I don’t mean to do that…_

“You know what you have to do. You’ve been doing it already.”

Thorin shook his head. “Have I? To be honest, I feel like it’s all I can do not to let Bilbo down.”

“It is one of your faults that you think you fail, your worth has never amounted to much in your mind, Thorin Oakenshield. Nevertheless, it is time to listen to your people and to your husband, for in them lies your true value. You’re a good king, Thorin. That is all you ever needed to be for your people. And you are also a good husband, though you do not see it. Now if that is all, I think you should go to Bilbo and make sure he’s eating properly.”

#

When he returned, Bilbo was peacefully asleep despite how moisture clung to his lashes and stained the pillows. Thorin sat down and took his hand, kissing it, and then pressed his lips to Bilbo’s brow. “I love you,” he whispered.

Bilbo hummed, stretching and opened his eyes. “You’re back.”

“I was speaking to Gandalf. I did not chew his head off.”

“That’s either a surprise or a relief,” Bilbo said.

Thorin smiled. “Likely both,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

Bilbo shook his head. “I’m just tired. As usual. Had some nightmares for a bit, but Nori gave me something to keep them at bay. I think it helped.”

Thorin nodded, drawing circles onto Bilbo’s skin with his thumb. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Thorin sighed. “Okay,” he said. “You know you can trust me with your dreams, Bilbo?”

“I know,” he said. “I don’t to relive them.”

Thorin took off his vambraces and boots. Bilbo watched him, unblinking. Thorin looked at him as he pulled the first boot off. “I was thinking of joining you. Just to sleep, if that’s all right.”

Bilbo swallowed, thinking. He nodded and Thorin lied down beside him and took Bilbo’s hand in his own. They didn’t fall asleep in a while, spending the time staring at each other. Then Bilbo let his hand go and moved closer, pressing his face into Thorin’s chest. Thorin wrapped his arms around him and stroked his hair, breathing in the scent of pipe weed, grass, and honey.

He shivered in Thorin’s arms, small tremors that wracked through his entire body. Thorin dragged his nails down Bilbo’s back and kissed the top of his head, feeling the trembling stutter and cease in waves. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “You’ll always be beautiful to me, _Ghivashel._ ”

Bilbo whimpered and Thorin kissed him again. Bilbo tilted his head back and pressed his lips to Thorin’s, grabbing Thorin’s hair and tugging. Thorin shivered and willed the pleasure away. Bilbo nibbled at Thorin’s lips, pushing him onto his back and sliding a hand under the tunic.

“Bilbo,” Thorin groaned. “Bilbo, stop.” He halted, freezing. Then he pulled away, his back to Thorin. Thorin turned onto his side. “Bilbo, I just…are you sure you’re ready for—”

“Of course I am,” Bilbo said, not facing him. “It is you who pushed me away just now.”

“I don’t want to rush this. You’ve been through—”

“I know very well what I’ve _been_ through, Thorin,” Bilbo said curtly.

Thorin kissed his shoulder, “I love you, Bilbo. I do love you. And please believe I would like nothing more than to know you again and hold you. I don’t think now is the right time.”

Bilbo scoffed. “And if I were to be called on another quest? Would you forgo caution then?”

“Now you’re being petty,” Thorin snapped, sitting up. He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t want to fight about this, Bilbo. I do want to make love to you, but please, _Ghivashel_ , I don’t want to hurt you, too. I would rather you be happy and well, I don’t want you having a panic attack.”

“How do you know I would? You don’t know that, Thorin.”

“No, I don’t, but I still fear it is too soon for us. Bilbo, look at me. Please?” Bilbo sat up and glared at him. Thorin cupped his cheek. “I love you. I will always love you, even if we never have sex again. I do not care. I do not need _that_. I need _you_ , Bilbo. Only you. Even if you were to push me aside and decide I am unworthy of you, I will love you and I will always cherish the time we had, short though it may be. You are my world and I almost lost you twice. I won’t risk a third time. I know I have not been the best husband I should have been, but I am here now and one day I would like to make love to you again. Maybe have a child together.” Bilbo blinked, eyes widening a little. “But right now, I am more concerned that you heal, both physically and mentally.”

“You want a child? What about Fili?”

“Fili already sits on the throne. Erebor does not need me to have an heir. Fili was raised for this and I know he’ll do a good job. But yes, I want to have a child with you. I thought you knew.”

“We hardly discussed it, Thorin,” Bilbo said. “And I’m not…I’m not sure I can be a father. I never did care much for children to begin with. I like them in small doses, but…to raise one? I don’t know if I can do that. I’m sorry, but I don’t,” he bit his lip. “I don’t want to be a parent.”

Thorin’s throat tightened. “I see.”

“Maybe one day, I don’t know, but right now? No.”

“Okay.”

“I suppose it’s my turn to say sorry, isn’t it?”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Thorin said, taking Bilbo’s hand in his again. “I want you to be happy and if being a parent does not make you happy, then we won’t have a child.”

“But it hurts you.”

“I raised my nephews. I already know that I can be a parent because I have already tried my hand at it,” He kissed Bilbo’s hands. “So while I would like a child to call my own, it is not something I desperately need or want. You’re my first priority, _Ghivasha_.”

Bilbo bit his lip and lowered his gaze to their hands. “Okay. I just want things to go back to normal, you know? This is not…it’s just not how I pictured our normal.”

Thorin kissed his forehead. “We’ve a long way to go till things can be back to normal. But one day, I promise, things will be like they used to be.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead with Bottom!Thorin

 

> _Dear Uncle Thorin,_
> 
> _All is well here in Erebor. Nori sent word that you’ve found Bilbo and I am glad to say that the kingdom rejoices at the news._
> 
> _Nori also said that all is not well with him and that he has caught the Warrior’s Sickness._
> 
> _I know no one will judge him for that, but it would be nice to know what exactly brought it on if only to get the people to stop spreading rumors about what caused it._
> 
> _Some are saying it has to do with you, Uncle, and the company knows that is not true. _
> 
> _Erebor awaits your return as much as I do. I do not know how you manage the kingdom at all, though if you were to ask Balin, he’d say I’m more organized. Shocking isn’t it?_
> 
> _Sincerely with love,_
> 
> _Fili_
> 
> _Dear Thorin and Bilbo,_
> 
> _Everyone misses you dearly._
> 
> _There have been some nasty rumors in place about you both and we’re doing what we can to trump it._
> 
> _It doesn’t help that Bilbo just ran off (no offense, Uncle!), though the most popular story has to do with the stress of the job which thankfully doesn’t villainize anyone._
> 
> _Hopefully your return will sort things out if nothing else._
> 
> _Hoping all is well,_
> 
> _Kili_

Thorin stroked his beard as he thought of an answer to send the boys. He hadn’t a clue what he’d say to them. After all, how does one go about telling his nephews he won’t be coming back for a while yet?

He reviewed the letter from Balin again, detailing Fili’s reign thus far. 

Organized was one word to describe Fili. Methodical was another. Calculating a third. All in all, Thorin was proud to assure him that even if he didn’t feel ready, he was far more ready than Thorin had been when he took up the mantle of king.

He glanced at Bilbo, who was still engrossed in a book out on the balcony. Thorin smiled fondly. It was perhaps one of the calmest he’s seen Bilbo. He began a letter to the company first, telling what had happened to Bilbo and the journey he had embarked on which had led to his Warrior’s Sickness.

He admitted that there was some truth to the letter Bilbo had left him, which urged him to write his nephews some advice he had gathered from this ordeal in a separate letter, as he was certain he wasn’t going to be in Erebor again if not for a long time to come.

He wasn’t sure if either were likely to start courting or wanting a family (he could see that in Kili more than Fili, to be honest. Fili never really showed any interest in the idea behind courting or being courted), but he didn’t want them to make the same mistakes he did. And he certainly didn’t want them to go through the horror he felt when Bilbo disappeared.

He looked up from the letters to see Bilbo had shifted slightly in his seat, still reading. Thorin set the quill down and wiped his fingers on a linen cloth, trying to get rid of the ink stains before approaching Bilbo.

“May I hug you?” he asked. Bilbo looked at him over his shoulder as he spoke. Then he nodded and Thorin wrapped his arms around him. “I love you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He kicked himself when he remembered he needed to ask first as he pressed his chin to Bilbo’s shoulder. Thankfully, Bilbo didn’t fly into a panic or a rage. Rather he turned his head and pressed a kiss of his own to Thorin’s mouth.

“You don’t have to be so careful anymore,” Bilbo assured him. “Not to say there won’t be days I’m…well, a little repulsed by touch, but I know it’d be you, Thorin.” He managed a small smile. “I know you and I love you, too.” Thorin squeezed, swallowing a whine, and hid his face in the crook of Bilbo’s neck. He heard the book drop and felt Bilbo wiggle around till he was embracing Thorin back, running his hands through his hair and kissing him. “I never stopped. I was angry and hurt, but I never once stopped loving you, Thorin.”

He clutched at Bilbo, gasping for breath as he soaked in the hope offered him, and wept. His legs were going to give out and Bilbo let go only long enough to stand and join him on the other end of the bench. He settled between Thorin’s legs, holding him to his chest and rocking him.

“I missed you, my love,” he said. “I really missed you.”

Thorin sobbed, nails tearing at Bilbo’s clothes. Bilbo rocked him and pet his hair, whispering _I love you_ and _I missed you_ over and over again. All the while, Thorin clung to him, unwilling to let him go as if afraid that if he did, Bilbo would be swept off on another quest or run away again.

He knew it was silly to think of. Bilbo likely wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. And there were, of course, the matter of what happened to his feet. Through his tears, Thorin stared at the bandages on Bilbo’s feet. He let go and touched one.

“May I?” he asked.

Bilbo bit his lip. “I don’t—”

“Bilbo, unless there is something life threatening about unbinding your feet, I don’t care what they look like,” he said. “May I see them?”

He waited for Bilbo to respond. In the end, he nodded and leaned back on his hands as Thorin unwrapped is feet. They were scarred white and there were patches of hair trying to grow back but in dire need of breathing room. Bilbo flexed one and looked away.

“They’re hideous—”

“No,” Thorin said, unwrapping the linen off the other foot which was in the same state. “They’re not hideous at all.”

He pulled Bilbo up and had him sit at the table while he fetched water and soap to wash his feet with. When he returned, he knelt and dipped one foot in the water, massaging it from the ankle to the toes, gently lathing soap on the top where the scars and budding hair was, on the soles, and between the toes. He did the same with the other foot and kissed the instep once dried.

Bilbo sucked in a breath at the feel of Thorin’s lips against his foot.

“How can you think they’re still beautiful.”

Thorin looked up and released his foot. He picked up the basin.

“I never stopped thinking that,” he said. “Not once did I ever think you were broken or damaged. I know you are hurt, and that you have been hurt, but Bilbo, you are still my husband. The day I stop thinking that is the day I fade in both body and soul. For even if I die, even if the world was to end here and now, I would never stop loving you. I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried.” He smiled. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, heading back to the wash room to dump the water and set the basin down.

When he returned, Bilbo had hid his face in his knees, arms wrapped around his shins. He lifted Bilbo onto his lap and cradled him, kissing him and petting his hair. “Fili and Kili wrote,” he said. “I’ll be telling Nori off later, but they know I found you.”

“What are you going to tell them?”

“I already wrote what had happened to you and why you left. You can read the letters if you like. There are some for you anyway.”

For a while, neither spoke. Then Bilbo sucked in a breath. “I’ll write them later. Thorin, I know you probably still think I’m not ready, but it’s been too long since we had sex. I need you.”

Thorin looked at him. “You are sure?” Bilbo nodded. “Tell me if you get uncomfortable.”

“I’ll tell you,” Bilbo agreed.

Thorin stood and carried him to the bed. He dropped Bilbo down and climbed on top, straddling his waist and holding Bilbo’s hands to either side of his head. They kissed long and languid, savoring. Bilbo’s hands pulled out of Thorin’s grasp and tugged at Thorin’s tunic till he could slide a hand under, groping at Thorin’s breast and teasing a nipple to budding.

Thorin pulled the tunic off and Bilbo sat up long enough to pull his own shirt off. Thorin pushed him back down and pressed a kiss to his chest, swirling his tongue around Bilbo’s nipple while his hand pinched and rubbed at the other. Bilbo rolled his hips up, grinding their groins together.

“I can’t wait to have you again,” Bilbo said, pulling at Thorin’s hair. “I can’t wait to feel you squeeze around my cock again.” Thorin gently bit down and Bilbo gasped, arching his back and yanking Thorin’s hair. “Thorin…Oh, Thorin…”

Thorin let up and moved a hand between them, cupping Bilbo’s girth through his trousers, watching his eyes roll back into his head and feeling him buck against his palm. Thorin undid the buttons holding the trousers up and slid his hand under the waistband of Bilbo’s small clothes.

Bilbo shuddered as Thorin took his cock in hand and slowly pumped upward, thumb pulling the foreskin up and sliding over the slit. Thorin kissed Bilbo’s jaw and released him. Bilbo pushed himself up on his elbows to watch Thorin shed the rest of his clothes, eyes wide and hungry.

Thorin straddled his waist again. “Oil?”

“Right!” Bilbo turned over and reached for a jar on the bedside table. He uncorked it and Thorin dipped his fingers in it before reaching around slid two fingers inside his ass. Bilbo set the jar back on the table, still open, and watched Thorin, transfixed.

Thorin eased in a third finger as Bilbo’s hands stroked his thighs and hips. He licked his lips, curling a hand around Thorin’s cock and stroked. The hand Thorin balanced on nearly collapsed under him at the added stimulation.

Bilbo’s other hand reached behind Thorin’s stones, pressing his fingers into the birth canal. Thorin gasped as Bilbo’s fingers stroked inside him. He fisted the sheets with his free hand and eased one more finger inside him. Bilbo pulled his hands away and reached for the oil jar, dipping his fingers inside and stroked his cock. Thorin pulled his fingers out and slid down on Bilbo’s cock.

He moaned, shuddering, and Bilbo seized his hips. By Mahal’s hammer, he missed this. The sheer intimacy of the act alone…

“Thorin…oh, Thorin…move. Please!”

He lifted up on his knees till just the head remained and slid back down at a steady pace leaving Bilbo gasping for breath and digging his nails into Thorin’s thighs. He watched Bilbo’s face, relishing in each drawn out moan, memorizing the way his mouth fell open and eyes closed, recalling what would make him arch his back and dig his nails into Thorin’s flesh…

Bilbo seized Thorin’s braids and pulled him down, kissing Thorin and rolling them over to take his own control, seizing Thorin’s hips and thrusting hard, pulling a scream out of Thorin’s throat. Their groans mingled and Thorin dug his nails into Bilbo’s back, feeling his release imminent.

He squeezed around Bilbo’s cock as he climaxed and Bilbo gasped, thrusts becoming erratic and Thorin felt him come. Bilbo pulled out with a hiss, rolling onto his back.

“Thank the gods,” he whispered.

Thorin snorted. “I know it’d been long since, but…”

Bilbo turned onto his side. “But what? I think I’m liable to thank a deity if I so chose given that the last time we were intimate was over a year ago.”

“Fair enough,” Thorin said. He furrowed his brow. “It’d really been that long?”

“You’d been too busy to even think on it, I see,” Bilbo said. “The last time we were intimate was the previous Durin’s Day.”

“Fuck.”

“Mm-hm,” Bilbo said, staring at him groggily. “Far too long if I say so.”

“It is.”

“Thankfully, I need a little time more before I can have you again, my king.”

Thorin stroked Bilbo’s cheek and drew his hand down his side. “I do wish you had said something sooner. I just…”

“Get busy. I know. You like to work. I do not blame you for that, my love. Nevertheless, I do not like that you decided to work so much that you had forgotten you were married.”

“I never forgot,” Thorin said. “You were always on my mind…”

“I became less and less of a priority,” Bilbo said, frowning.

Thorin bit his lip. “It was not intentional.”

“That doesn’t make it feel any better, Thorin.”

“I know, but that is all I can say in my defense.” Bilbo let himself be pulled into Thorin’s embrace. “I won’t do it again. I can’t guarantee I won’t make this mistake again, but I _will_ ensure it, _Ghivashel_.” Bilbo’s shoulders shook and a sob escaped his mouth.

 _Mahal, help me be a better Dwarf,_ he thought. _Please help me be a better husband. I can’t do this alone._


	13. Chapter 13

“We can’t stay here,” Nori said. “You know it.”

“I am not keeping you from your family,” Thorin snapped. “If you want to go, then go.”

“Ah, but then I’d have to explain to Dwalin why I came back alone. I’d rather keep my relationship with my brother-in-law civil at best and losing the king might get under his skin _just_ a bit too much. Bilbo is doing better. If you really wish to abdicate, then do so, but we must go home.”

Thorin massaged his forehead. He knew they would have to go back to Erebor someday. But would Bilbo want to?

“No,” he said. “Bilbo should be the one to decide whether we stay or go, and if we go, _where_. I am not taking any risks. Erebor is our home, true, but the Shire…”

“He hasn’t lived there in three years, Thorin. His house doesn’t belong to him anymore.”

“It should _still_ belong to him!”

“Yes, we know that, but _they_ don’t. I’m sure his more amiable relatives will not mind us being there, but we can’t stay in Gondor much longer.”

“He’s right.” Thorin turned to the doorway to see Bilbo approaching. “Are you serious about abdicating?”

“I am. I have been king for many years now, but I can’t risk letting my work get between us again. Fili is ready. I know he is. And I did as much as I could when I could, but my duty to my people should not have come between us. I have a duty to you as well and I have failed to uphold it. If being the king costs me you, then I do not want to be king anymore.”

“Erebor is still your home.”

“And the Shire?”

“I’m not happy with the Sackville-Bagginses being in my home. They shouldn’t even be there, but I didn’t exactly plan to get married when I ran out my door. I didn’t know I would fall in love. I really did think I would come back to the Shire. It’s not my home anymore, but I would rather that Bag End go who actually needs it. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do about it.”

“We could go back to the Shire. Figure out if we can do something about it,” Thorin said. Bilbo bit his lip. “What? Does that not sound pleasing to you?”

“No, it does, it’s just…The Shire’s farther than Erebor.”

“Aye. It is. But the decision is yours, _Ghivashel._ ”

Bilbo crossed his arms. “You likely gave yourself a time frame as to how long it would take till you returned.”

“I had no intention of returning to Erebor without you, Bilbo.”

Nori groaned. “Excuse me while I cleanse myself of this sweetness. It’s giving me a stomach ache.”

Bilbo snorted and Thorin glared at his back.

“You know, I would like to see the Shire again,” Bilbo said. “But how are the roads? You came here that way, didn’t you?”

“Relatively safe,” Thorin said. “No more than the usual bandit and slave traders.”

“Nothing we can’t handle, then.”

“Exactly,” Thorin said, grinning. “Though the slavers were tougher than I thought they’d be…”

“Tougher or wilier?”

“Wilier…”

#

“Are you sure you’re well enough to leave?” Gilraen asked. “It is no bother having you and your family here if you wish to stay.”

Bilbo shook his head. “I think it would be best to return to my country of origin, at least for a while. Not to say that Gondor has not been welcoming or helpful, but it is not my home,” he took Thorin’s hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Erebor is my home, and while I am not overly fond of the Shire, it is peaceful and I think the more distance between me and Mordor will help.”

Gilraen hummed. “You could also go to Rivendell. I’m sure Lord Elrond could offer some aid as well.”

Thorin hissed in a breath when Bilbo had pinched his wrist.

“I’ll consider it,” Bilbo said, smiling at her. He let go of Thorin and ignored the glare sent his way. “It is along the way, so who knows.”

Thorin leaned down. “I do not mind going to Rivendell. Elrond offered me aid when I stopped there looking for you.”

Bilbo turned to him, wide eyed. “You willingly went to Rivendell?” he whispered.

“Is that so strange?”

“Yes,” Bilbo said.

Thorin wasn’t sure whether to be unsurprised or slightly insulted at the lack of hesitation from him. “You could have been there. I wasn’t leaving anything out. If I knew you walked into Mordor I would walk right in just to carry you out, even if by some strange will you didn’t want to leave.”

Bilbo shrugged.

 _Shrugged_.

Thorin didn’t like the level of this nonchalance from him. True, he _did_ walk into Mordor and he came out alive. He narrowed his eyes. “Would you do it?”

“Well, now that there’s no giant flaming eye and all of his servants are on the run, Mordor might actually become a rather nice place. What with a little greenery and the like…oh, it’d take _ages_ of healing, I’m sure…”

“Bilbo, this is not funny.”

“I’m not laughing.” Thorin looked at the others. Conversations had moved around and they weren’t watched. He stood and led Bilbo out of the room. “What? Thorin, I know it’s not something to joke about, but it is a little funny.” Thorin narrowed his eyes and Bilbo arched a brow. He sighed. “All right, I’m sorry. Joking about it, making light of it…it sort of helps. I’m trying to forget what happened and at the same time, it’s impossible to forget. If joking about it helps, why not let me joke about it?”

“Because I almost lost you there,” Thorin snapped. “I could have lost you and then what?! You were willing to go on a quest and possibly die, letting me think you hated me!” He leaned against the wall and exhaled, his shoulders relaxed and he pressed his fingers to his eyes. After a silent moment, Bilbo took his other hand.

“I never hated you,” he whispered. “Thorin I was angry, but I never hated you and I had written a letter explaining why I wrote what I did and why I left. I didn’t _want_ to die, but someone had to take care of it and I had managed having the ring in my presence for two years before I learned what it was and decided to go. The six months before, I was beginning to think you were tired of me and you didn’t want to tell me.”

He lowered his hand and looked at Bilbo.

“I understand why you would want to numb yourself from what you experienced. Joking about it, to be honest, is the healthier alternative, but I would rather you _talk_ to me about it. I have experienced horrors that I had prayed you’d never see and I am only sorry I was not there to protect you. But I would rather you talk to me than jest. Trust that I can help you with your Warrior’s Sickness.”

“I know you can…”

“But?”

“Nothing, I just…I don’t know if I can overcome it.”

Thorin pulled him into an embrace. “It’s less about overcoming and more about trying to face every day regardless what you went through. It gets easier, I promise, but joking about it, it could help, I admit, but I don’t want you downplaying your illness. That won’t help you.”

Bilbo rubbed the back of his neck and nodded, “I won’t guarantee it, but I will make an effort to try.”

“Thank you.”

#

“Is that the last of it?” Bilbo asked, handing Thorin a crate, which was shoved onto the wagon.

“It is. Now all we need is Nori.”

“Where _is_ Nori anyway?”

Thorin wrinkled his nose. “If I know him well enough, I’d say he’s at a brothel or still in bed.”

“Oh,” Bilbo said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. Why did you go with him?”

“I didn’t. He followed me and I caught him in Bree,” Thorin said. Bilbo snorted. “What?

“By ‘you caught him in Bree,’ do you mean…”

“He was evading arrest for defiling the innkeeper’s daughter.”

“Ah, yes. That sounds like him.”

“Indeed.”

“He once snuck into the royal suite to evade Dwalin.”

Thorin paused and stared at him. “When did that happen?” Bilbo grinned.

“You were at court and I was having tea with Dori. Needless to say, it did not go well for him. I daresay he would rather face Dwalin.”

“Why would I rather face Dwalin?” Nori asked.

Bilbo smirked. “Remember a few months ago, you broke into our suite while I was having tea with Dori?”

“Oh. Yes. Yes, I would rather face Dwalin in such a situation. He at least won’t twist my ear off. Are we ready to go?”

“Just waiting on you,” Bilbo said.

“While we loaded the cart. Alone. While you were where?”

Nori smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“See?”

“I do,” Bilbo said, shaking his head. “Dastardly.”

“Horrid.”

“Completely unrespectable.”

“You know, I actually prefer Dori over the two of you combined right now.”

“Why?” Thorin asked, smirking. “We’re only telling the truth.”

“Yes, but it lacks the love Dori usually gives.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check tags! 
> 
> Some sex later too

He ran through the halls, screaming his name, tearing open every door and ripping through room after room. He screamed, he wept…he felt engulfed in total darkness…and then it was there, burning holes into his skin and laying him exposed.

“Thorin!!!”

_Bilbo…_

_Bilbo…_

“Bilbo! Bilbo, wake up!”

Bilbo wrenched his eyes open, trying to breathe. Thorin stroked his hair and held him close. The fire crackled and the moon shone between the gaps in the clouds. He was safe. Thorin was here.

“I’ve got you, _Ghivasha_ ,” Thorin whispered. “You’re safe. Nothing can get you here. I’m here, _Ghivasha_.” Bilbo closed his eyes, his breathing evened out and he could feel the tension seep out of his body. “Nori? Did you bring it?”

“Got it here,” he said, handing Bilbo a water skin. Bilbo took a few sips before setting it down. “You all right, Bilbo?” he asked. “You were screaming loud enough to wake the dead.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just the usual nightmares.”

Thorin arched a brow. It was not the usual nightmare. Or at least, for Bilbo, it wasn’t what they used to be. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you more about them later. I don’t want to dwell on it right now.”

“We should leave,” Nori said, “Now. Just in case.”

“In case what?” Bilbo asked.

“We can’t move. It’s too dark.”

“Do you think we’ve a choice?” Nori asked, arching a brow. “Thorin, we don’t know what might be lurking out in the dark. Anything foul could have heard that scream miles away.” Bilbo blinked and bowed his head. He didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did.

“That’s enough,” Thorin growled. “Nori, we are not leaving. If we are attacked, then we will fight. We leave as soon as the sun rises and no later nor sooner.”

“As you command, my lord,” Nori said. He left and Bilbo lifted his head.

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m sure,” Thorin said, laying them back down. “Moving in the dark is a risky move. I’d rather not take too many risks. Especially unnecessary ones.”

“I think it’s necessary if it’s as loud as I thought.”

“Bilbo, we’re still in Gondor,” Thorin said. “We’ve another day or two to go till we’re in Rohan. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“There are survivors, or so I’ve been told,” Bilbo said. “Orcs that escaped Mordor when the Tower fell and Mount Doom burst into flame. What if they’re near?”

“We will handle it if they are. We’ve dealt with Orcs before, we can do it again.” He kissed Bilbo’s forehead. “I promise you, everything will be all right.”

“What if I freeze? Or I have an attack? Or—”

“I will protect you,” Thorin said, pressing his finger to Bilbo’s lips. “I will _not_ let them hurt you again, do you understand? I will never let you go through that again. They will _not_ get you. They’d have to kill me first.” Bilbo shook his head.

“That’s worse. I don’t want you to die…”

“And I don’t want to die,” Thorin assured him. “I want to live with you till we’re old and grey and we’re keep complaining about aching hips.” Bilbo chuckled. “But despite that, as much as I want to live the rest of my life with you, I would die for you if it meant you would live.”

Bilbo’s smile ebbed and he nuzzled closer to Thorin. “Don’t die. Not for me. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you. Promise me you’ll live to complain about your damn hip.”

“Promise me the same and we have a deal,” Thorin said, stroking Bilbo’s back.

Bilbo nodded, curls tickling Thorin’s chin and neck. “I promise, though it feels wrong making it when we’re not by our tree.”

“We can renew the promise when we return to Erebor, then,” Thorin said.

“If only Nori wasn’t here.”

Thorin snorted. “If only. I’m sure Thingol will gladly give us our own room when we reach Edoras.”

Bilbo nodded and pushed back. “Kiss me?” Thorin smiled and pressed his forehead to Bilbo’s before bestowing him with a gentle kiss before they fell back to sleep. The rest of the night was undisturbed.

#

If anyone heard, they cared not to get close to where Bilbo, Thorin, and Nori were. No brave soul, nor bloodthirsty savage, Orc or Man, came near. When they arrived at Edoras, they were led to the Golden Hall and greeted Thingol, who ordered not only the finest rooms for them, but also insisted they stay a couple day to celebrate the fall of Mordor.

“I hope,” Thorin said as they walked down the hallway, “That you do not take offense to my departure.” Thingol glanced at him, arching a brow. “Bilbo is very dear to me and my kin. To have learned what became of him, to know he lived and was so close yet in pain…”

“I had thought him your adopted brother or even a child of sorts, but that reaction was…it was closer to that of a man who feared the loss of his heart.”

Thorin rested his hand on Orcrist’s hilt. “And if it was?”

“In respect of the Ring Bearer, no harm will come to him and those he deems family, but I would keep the true nature of your relationship with him secret.”

“If you think I am the first Dwarf to have had _relations_ with another male, then I guarantee that you know nothing of my people and how we love. It is not me or him that must control ourselves, but those in your court and nation who would wish us harm. Or is it considered so heinous to love that even your women aren’t allowed to love whom they desire?”

“You speak as though you find Men detestable.”

“Admittedly I find Men better than Elves on most days, but at least on the nature of love and what constitutes as what a family is, Elves are more sensible. All you need to know is that I love him and that he loves me.” _Does he?_ Thorin ignored the doubt, reminding himself that Bilbo was steadily beginning to trust him again. Thorin had no reason to doubt him or the way they felt.

“If you say so,” Thingol said. “I would still tread with caution while you are here.”

“In Edoras or in Rohan?” Thorin asked.

“Whichever you find more agreeable,” Thingol said, stopping at a door. “Enjoy your night,” he said. Thorin watched him leave and once he rounded the corner, he entered the room and paused.

“I take it Thingol knows,” Bilbo asked, sitting on the bed.

“You snuck here. How?”

Bilbo grinned. “Hobbit. Even without a ring of invisibility, my people are quite talented at keeping out of sight when we want to avoid being seen.”

“But it requires far more stealth, I take it.”

“It does.”

Thorin hummed and sat on the bed pulling his boots off. “Yes, he knows and he is not…pleased. Told me to watch my back.”

“Well, that is good advice,” Bilbo said. “Even if it perhaps came out more as a threat.”

“It sort of did,” Thorin muttered, moving to the other boot. “He is of the mind that our relationship is perhaps abusive. He said nothing of the sort, but he seemed to imply it.”

Bilbo hummed. Once the other boot was off, Bilbo tugged on his jacket. “Do we care?”

“No,” Thorin said, letting Bilbo take his coat to the chair and let it be lain over it. “At least I don’t care if you don’t.”

“And I don’t. Men are narrow minded on this subject. They do not understand it and only see it as a form of dominance, which speaks leagues of their understanding, I suppose.”Bilbo climbed back on the bed and pushed Thorin’s hair over his shoulder, kissing his neck. “Forget about it tonight, whether he approves or not, he will not hurt his own guests or allow them to come to harm. Come to bed?”

Thorin nodded and pulled his tunic off before lying on his back and Bilbo climbed on top of him. “So we _aren’t_ sleeping.”

“We will,” Bilbo promised, smiling at him. “Unless you don’t want to make love now…” Thorin glanced at the door. “What? Do you think the risk is too great?”

“I think there’s enough of a risk that I don’t want to be caught inopportune.” Bilbo climbed off and approached the door. After examining it for a moment, he seized a chair and shoved it under the handle before returning and settling between Thorin’s thighs.

“We’ll be quiet,” he said, unlacing the string holding his trousers up. “And if any do try to attack, we’ll have enough time to grab our weapons. For now, don’t give it attention, Thorin. Please?”

Thorin nodded and Bilbo slid his hand under his small clothes, kissing Thorin’s chest. Thorin bit his lip as Bilbo pulled his cock out and pressed kisses along the length of it.

He shuddered when Bilbo closed his lips around the head and sucked, tongue drawing circles around the slit. Thorin shuddered when the tip of it dipped against the slit and his hands dug into the sheets, curling around them. Bilbo pulled away.

“Hush, my love,” he said, tugging Thorin’s pants down to play with his stones.

Thorin groaned through his teeth and shut his eyes as Bilbo swallowed him again hummed. Thorin’s breathing grew shallow, and one hand covered Bilbo’s head, digging into the scalp. Bilbo moved his hand lower, pushing his fingers into Thorin’s birth canal…

Thorin covered his mouth with his arm to muffle the scream that accompanied his release. Bilbo swallowed and licked him clean before crawling over him. “Good?”

“Yes,” Thorin whispered.

“What else would you like?” Bilbo asked, kissing his shoulder. “What do you want me to do?”

Thorin licked his lips. “Fuck me,” he said.

“No oil.”

“Don’t need it,” Thorin said, kicking his trousers off, “Bilbo…”

“All right, sweetheart. All right.” Bilbo moved Thorin’s testes out of the way and laid his free hand on his thigh before pushing inside. Thorin wrapped his legs around Bilbo’s waist and gripped his shoulders.

“Please…Bilbo, move…”

Bilbo gripped his hips and rolled his hips, gradually picking up pace. Thorin bit his lip and seized Bilbo’s shoulders as Bilbo picked up pace, biting his shoulder to keep from moaning. Thorin whimpered and arched his back. Bilbo let go and pulled out just as his orgasm hit.

He rolled onto his back, gasping for breath. Thorin turned onto his side and rested his head on Bilbo’s shoulder. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Bilbo said, kissing him. “Let me get a towel to clean us up with, hmm? I’ll be right back.” Thorin kissed his hand and let him go to the bathroom.

They fell asleep, lost to peaceful dreams till morning.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I don't know if I should post a TW, since nothing really triggering as far as I can tell happens, but just be aware that there's a hint of past emotional abuse and a not-so-happy revealing. Some of you may already know what...

Their stay in Edoras was short, less than a week, and for Thorin, that was fine. He didn’t want to stay long anywhere lately. Moving helped settle his sudden onset of nausea and inability to keep food down for long. It worried Bilbo and Nori often gave him a calculating, suspicious glance, but Thorin was certain it’d pass after a while.

“Perhaps we should stop in Dunland for a bit,” Bilbo said. “And you need to see a healer,” he added, nudging Thorin with his elbow. Thorin rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine.”

“The cram you chucked up earlier this morning says otherwise,” Nori said. Thorin glared at him and Nori grinned mischievously.

“I know cram’s not very good,” Bilbo said, “but it’s supposed to be settling.”

“So that’s settled?” Nori asked.

“Yes,” Bilbo said. “Healer.”

“I’ll see who’s in the area,” he said.

“Nori!” Thorin snapped at him as he ran off. Bilbo took his hand.

“Please, Thorin? You’re sick.”

“It comes and goes,” he said. “I feel fine.”

Bilbo shook his head. “I’m not convinced,” he said. “Thorin, please see someone.”

Thorin sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You’re not going to take my word for it.”

Bilbo shook his head and Thorin nodded. He didn’t exactly have much of a choice. In a way, he kind of hoped that it was just a stomach bug or something of the sort. He wasn’t sure what he’d expect, but he was afraid.

Nori returned, leading them to a Dwarfen settlement. Thorin had thought they’d all been cleared out when he managed to get land in the Blue Mountains. Clearly not everyone had followed, but he didn’t hold that against them. How could he? He couldn’t force his people to follow him if they chose not to.

The healer in question was a former apprentice of Oin who had married a Man, hence his family’s decision to stay behind rather than go to the mountains. Thorin bore through the questions and the prodding just until the healer brought out a small knife.

“Lie back.”

“What is that for?” Thorin asked, glaring at the instrument. The healer licked his lips.

“You seem fine, and you claim to be save for the occasional nausea and the vomiting. This will just be a short way to check and see if my suspicions are correct.”

“What suspicions?”

“You’re a bearer, are you not, my lord?” the healer asked. “It is very likely you are with child, but to be sure, I need a closer look.”

“Impossible.”

“Is it?”

Well, no it wasn’t. Thorin knew that, but at the same time, he was old. Older than he looked. If he was with child, then…well, there was also Bilbo’s aversion for children to contend with. He placed his hand over his belly.

“You weren’t expecting this?”

“I was afraid I might be, but…my husband isn’t…”

The healer took his hand. “Let’s find out if my suspicions are correct first,” he said. “Then you can talk to your husband.”

Thorin nodded. What other choice was there? He always entertained the thought of being a parent, even calculated time and time again what he’d have to give up—going off to war, certainly, sleep would be inevitable…

A bit of hair was shaved away before the incision was made. He ground his teeth through the exam. At the end, the incision was stitched and the blood wiped away.

“Well?” he asked.

“Shall I get your husband?”

“So I am…”

“You are.” Thorin sat up, wincing. The healer pushed him back down. “Rest. I’ll get your husband. The Halfling you’re traveling with, I assume?”

Thorin nodded, biting his lip. What was he going to tell him? What would happen now? Would Bilbo change his mind? Would he want to keep them? Thorin placed his hand protectively over his abdomen. He didn’t think anything bad would happen, but he could admit that he was afraid.

Perhaps it wasn’t rational, but rationality was…not exactly his strong suit.

“The healer said you needed to talk to me?” Bilbo asked, stepping inside. “Is everything all right?” Thorin looked at him, hand still over his belly. “Thorin?”

“I’m pregnant,” he whispered. Bilbo blinked, lowering his gaze to Thorin’s stomach.

“Edoras,” he said.

“Likely. I know you—”

Bilbo raised his hand and sat beside him. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Please don’t.” He took Thorin’s hand in his and squeezed it, staring at his feet. “We’ll…we’ll figure it out. I still don’t really…but I know you…by Yavanna and Aule this is harder than I thought…”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. “We’ll figure it out,” he said again. “Okay? We will figure this out.”

“I don’t expect you to change your mind right away,” Thorin said. Bilbo looked at him. “It wasn’t expected or planned, but please, I want this.”

“And Fili? What will this mean for him?” Bilbo asked.

“It changes nothing,” Thorin said. “Save that if this child is to be a king of Erebor, I do not see why he or she would not have a reason to rule after Fili. I would not take that from him. Not when I know he’s ready for the task.”

Bilbo touched Thorin’s belly. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he said. “And I’m more terrified now than I was when I stood at the Black Gates. But, you know, I think this is an entirely different kind of fear all the same.” He met Thorin’s gaze. “I’m not leaving again if I can help it,” he promised, leaning on Thorin’s shoulder. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have left at all, leaving things the way they were.”

 _You should have talked to me_ , Thorin thought. _I would have done anything to make it right. I still would. Neither of us are in the right, but I still wish you talked to me rather than ran away._

“So you’re all right with this? Having a baby?”

Bilbo frowned, moving his hand away. “Ask me again in a few days or so. I need…I need time to get used to the idea.” Thorin nodded and Bilbo kissed his hand. “I thought you’d be happier. You wanted to be a parent.”

“What would be the point if you don’t?” Thorin asked. “I’m terrified this will tear us apart further. I can’t lose you again.”

“Hey, Thorin,” Bilbo cupped his cheek. “I’m not leaving you. And this baby is not going to tear us apart. Not if I can help it. I am scared, Thorin, my own father…I don’t want to be him and I think that’s partly what turned me away from wanting children. I know you’re relationship with Thrain was good, but my relationship with my father…Bungo Baggins may have been respectable and he may have loved me, but I never felt it. He never accepted me for who I was. Not for being more like my mother nor for preferring men to women…”

Thorin hushed him. “Bilbo, you’re going to do your best to _not_ be like you father,” he said. “You know what he did wrong. You know the way he treated you was not okay. Bilbo, _Ghivashel_ , you won’t be him. You could never be him.”

Bilbo closed his eyes, weeping.

Thorin engulfed him in a hug and stroked his hair. “You could be better and you will be. Bilbo, I’ve seen you overcome some of the most outrageous battles I’ve seen. You destroyed the One Ring of Sauron and you survived. I know you can do this. _We_ can do this. I know we can.”

He took Bilbo’s hand and placed it over his belly. “This baby is ours, Bilbo. I want to keep them.”

“I know. But I still…”

“We’ve time to figure it out,” Thorin said. “We’ve all the time in the world.”

Bilbo sighed and pulled away. “I, um, need to get some air.” With that, he strode out of the house.

#

“Have you found him?” Thorin asked Nori that night. Nori huffed.

“Not yet. Let’s hope he didn’t lose his nerve.”

“He wouldn’t,” Thorin said.

Nori crossed his arms. “I’ll keep looking, but right now, my guess is that he doesn’t want to be found, Thorin. But I’m sure he will come back when he’s ready. Can’t have been expected, getting pregnant.”

Thorin knelt by the fire. “I don’t want to do.”

“Well, from someone who knows, it’s a difficult situation all around. My mam, you know. And my father…and Ori’s father at that. Neither of them were good Dwarves but she did her best regardless. It can be hard when one person doesn’t want to have a child and the other does.”

Thorin sighed. “I can’t lose him again. There has to be a way for me to have both.”

“Well, all the more luck to you. Personally, I think Bilbo just needs time to get used to the idea of it. More time than he’s gotten. Just be patient. He’ll be back.”

_What if he’s not?_

Nori moved to Thorin’s side and squeezed his shoulder. “Regardless what might happen now, if you ever feel that the baby might be in danger—”

“From Bilbo?” Thorin growled, narrowing his eyes.

Nori shook his head. “I wasn’t going to go there,” he promised. “But there’s twelve others who’d willingly help raise our new prince or princess if you needed it. I do not think Bilbo would do anything to hurt his child…”

“Maybe I should—”

Nori shook his shoulder. “Thorin, you want this child, don’t you?” Thorin nodded. “Then that’s all you need to know. You weren’t expecting it, but you’re already in love with this child. It’s yours. That’s all that matters in the end. Okay?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to be the kind of person who would back me in this.”

“Why wouldn’t I? My own situation was the same as the one you, Bilbo, and the little one are in. Kleptomania aside, I came out all right.”

Thorin arched a brow at him and opened his mouth to tease him a little when they heard branches snapping behind them. Nori and Thorin jumped to their feet and pulled their weapons free.

“It’s just me,” Bilbo said, raising his hands. “It’s me.”

“Where have you been?” Nori snapped.

“I needed to clear my head,” he said sitting beside Thorin.

“Did it help?” Thorin asked. Bilbo glanced at him then averted his gaze to his feet.

“Not really,” he admitted, staring at the fire.


	16. Chapter 16

The journey back was surprisingly quiet.

Calm, even.

Thorin felt that he and Bilbo had entered a tense, awkward phase as the baby grew and continued to play about with Thorin’s emotions as well as make it nearly impossible to keep his food down.

He laid on his side, back to the fire, arms crossed over is chest.

 He tensed at first when Bilbo approached and laid beside him, but rather than back to back as they had been since finding out about the baby, he pressed his nose to Thorin’s neck and placed his arm over his waist, pressing his hand to Thorin’s stomach.

“Are you okay?” Bilbo asked. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“This is enough,” Thorin said, pulling his arms apart to lay one on top of Bilbo’s. “I love you.”

“And I you,” Bilbo replied, kissing Thorin’s shoulder. The palm of his hand pressed against Thorin’s belly. “And you, too, little one.”

Thorin turned to him.

Bilbo smiled gently. “I, well, I don’t know how good of a parent I’ll be given my past with my own father. And I’m terrified of it all, but I’m going to try to be a good father.”

Thorin turned around to face him, pressing their foreheads together. “I know you will, _Ghivasha_. You’re good with children. Better than you think you are.”

Bilbo bit his lip. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said. “Either way, I’m still scared. More scared than I thought I’d be.”

“But not alone,” Thorin said. “You’ll never have to do this alone.”

Bilbo hummed and kissed Thorin. “I would hope not,” he said. “Goodnight, Thorin.”

“Goodnight,” Thorin mumbled, wrapping his arms around Bilbo tightly as they drifted off to sleep.

#

The Misty Mountains seemed more ominous than usual when they approached them and Thorin covered his stomach with a hand unconsciously as he looked on the pass. He caught Bilbo’s and Nori’s eyes for a moment before exhaling.

 “No time like the present.”

“Are you sure?” Bilbo asked. “We could go around.”

“No,” Thorin said. “The faster, the better.”

“Why?” Nori asked.

“Rivendell,” Bilbo said. “It’d be a good place for a birth.”

Thorin wrinkled his nose at the thought. A Dwarf babe should be born in a mountain around stone. But a half-Dwarf might not need it as much. Hobbits require sunlight and earth, after all.

“And a good place to heal wounds,” Thorin added, looking at Bilbo who shrugged. Thorin embraced him and kissed him. “I pray the mountains will be kind to us this time around.”

“Same,” Bilbo said. With that, they approached the mountain.

The following days after were spent trying to avoid whatever might hunt them on the mountain—especially caves. No one wanted a repeat of what happened in Goblin Town if it could be helped.

Traveling remained difficult, especially for Thorin. The altitude did not, in any way, help his nausea and certainly not the hot-cold flashes.

And when another Thunder Battle began, they had no choice, but to take shelter in a cave. Nori built a fire despite Thorin’s protests.

“Hush!” Bilbo snapped. “You need the warmth, Thorin.”

Thorin grumbled as Bilbo massaged his shoulders and embraced him, resting his chin on the damp shoulder.

“We’ll be all right.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, but I’d rather remain optimistic, you see. We’ll wait the storm out and continue on.”

“Barring any other complications,” Thorin muttered.

“Yes, but I would rather not think on those complications. Right, Nori?”

“Right.”

“See?” Bilbo said, kissing Thorin’s cheek. “Think positive, love. We’ll get through this.”

“Is this how you dealt with going into Mordor?”

Bilbo bit his lip and his faint smile vanished.

“No,” he admitted. “Whatever joy I managed to hold onto was lost when I entered that land. This…this journey is far easier and far more pleasant, considering.”

Thorin took his hand and kissed it. “I will try to stay positive, but I make no promises.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Bilbo sighed, squeezing Thorin. “How are you feeling? Is the little one bothering you?”

“He was.”

“He? Certain, are you?”

“Women are rare, Bilbo. Just because you’re people have a fifty-fifty chance does not mean that it evens out in our relationship.”

“Well if you insist. It kind of makes sense, given how sick he makes you.”

“Hush.”

“I’m just teasing,” Bilbo said, grinning now. “I’ll make you something to eat that, hopefully, the little one will let you keep down.”

“Let’s hope.”

“Indeed.” Bilbo kissed his cheek and approached the fire, rifling through the sacks to check and see what they had that could be cooked.

#

As Bilbo predicted, the storm passed with no further incident save that Thorin, yet again, was unable to keep any food down.

 _At least we got out of those cursed mountains,_ he thought, glancing back at them. If he never saw them again, it’d be too soon. Bilbo sat behind him on Labamrazkh, arms around Thorin’s waist as they made their way toward the Valley.

Another day passed dully and at last they entered Rivendell. Lindir greeted them and took them to rooms where they could rest. Thorin was assured an appointment with Elrond as soon as possible to find out why the babe tormented him so.

Bilbo was certain it was nothing more than a lack of nutrients.

“Perhaps we should stay till the baby’s born,” he said. “Or longer. Rivendell’s a good place to raise a child. Peaceful, fair…”

“I’d rather he be raised among his people,” Thorin said. Bilbo arched a brow.

“And who, exactly, count as his people? Dwarves? Hobbits? He’s a new kind of person, Thorin. He’s both Hobbit and Dwarf and yet also probably neither. Besides, at least in Rivendell, we can all get the medical attention we need and not have to deal with whatever rumors start flying about. If we go back to the Shire, everyone will criticize us. If we go back to Erebor, we risk dissent with those who would rather see this child on the throne rather than Fili. Not that I think any of them would…”

“Why not? Would our child not be a worthy king?” Thorin asked angrily.

Bilbo blinked. “No, that’s not what I meant. I only meant that the council was against our marriage and now that there’s a child, how many of them would see him as your heir? How many of them would want him gone? At least here we know he won’t be hurt or treated wrongly for who he is.”

Thorin sighed. “I’m sorry I snapped.” He sat down. “I’m tired and I’m hungry…”

“I’m sure you are. I’ll go to the kitchens, all right? I’ll make you something to eat. And Thorin.”

“Yes?”

“You are eating vegetables.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Only if you prepare them, _Ghivasha._ ”

“I promise no one else will prepare you vegetables,” Bilbo said. He kissed Thorin’s cheek and left the room. “Get some sleep, love, while you can. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

#

“I had heard that Durin had a remarkable talent, but I did not realize it was true,” Elrond said as he examined Thorin. “You can pull your shirt down.” Thorin did so and sat up. “The babe needs more nutrients, as Bilbo said. Your husband is attentive. I’d also like to start you on one of the concoctions our midwives prescribe for bearing mothers.”

“If you insist.”

“I do,” Elrond said, eyes twinkling. Thorin arched a brow.

“Do I amuse you?”

“I do not mean to mock,” Elrond said. “Only I had not known that Dwarf men could bear children. It was a legend only, but I suppose it is one of your closely guarded secrets?”

“It is, though somehow I get the feeling not so much anymore.”

“No one here will think badly of you,” Elrond promised. “We are old and we have seen much. A pregnant Dwarf will only spark curiosity, not disdain.”

Thorin sighed, “I will try to be patient, then.”

“Much obliged,” Elrond said. He smirked. “Would you like to know the sex of the child?”

“Likely male.”

“Perhaps, but there is a chance you could have a daughter. Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Thorin bit his lip. “More Elf magic?”

“More a wizard’s spell. It won’t hurt you or the child.”

Thorin hummed. “I’ll discuss it with Bilbo.”

“All right.”

With that, Thorin left, arms crossed over his chest. Once back in his room, he covered his stomach with a hand, wondering at the possibility of a daughter.

He wanted one.

A daughter.

If he spoke of Fili and Kili as sons in all but name, then was he not deserving to have a little girl to call his own? He knew it was unlikely, but…

“Oh! You’re back,” Bilbo said, stepping out of the wash room, hair damp. “How was your appointment with Elrond?”

“Good. You were right: I need to eat more vegetables,” he made a face at that. One that displayed his suffering as well as resignation to the situation. It made Bilbo chuckle. “He also offered to tell me the sex of the child.”

“You’re certain it’ll be a boy.”

“I am certain, but…”

Bilbo smiled fondly. “You want to find out?”

“I do…”

“Well…it’ll be an opportunity most wouldn’t have, would it?”

“I hope it’s a girl.”

His smile widened. “So do I. I mean, I’d love the baby regardless of the sex, but a girl would be nice. What would you think of Jasmin?”

“Jasmin?”

“After the jasmine flower,” Bilbo clarified. “Jasmin Baggins sounds nice, as does Princess Jasmin of the Line of Durin. And if it’s a boy…”

“Frerin,” Thorin said. “For my brother.”

Bilbo nodded. “Frerin and Jasmin. I like those names.”

“I thought you wanted to name a daughter after your mother.”

“Maybe if we have more babies, the next daughter can be Belladonna,” Bilbo said. He kissed Thorin and then his belly. “I can’t wait to meet you, my darling.” He looked up, grinning. “Hungry? I know I am.”

Thorin nodded, following Bilbo to the dining hall.


	17. Chapter 17

Bilbo held Thorin’s hand as Elrond cast the spell. A soft white glow hovered overhead before turning pink and blue. Elrond hummed. “Are twins normal for Dwarves?”

“No,” Thorin said, stunned. Bilbo grinned.

“They are for Hobbits,” he said. “Lots of families have twins, some even triplets. My maternal grandmother had quadruplets once.”

Thorin gaped at him. “Quad…”

“Yes. Four at a time.”

“Well, I’m afraid you are not _that_ fortunate,” Elrond said. “You’re having fraternal twins. A son and a daughter.” Thorin and Bilbo exchanged glances and grinned.

“Frerin and Jasmin Baggins,” Bilbo whispered, scooting closer to Thorin and kissing his hand. “I love you, Thorin.” Thorin squeezed his hand.

“And I you, _Ghivasha_.”

Elrond cleared his throat. “Might I suggest a diet that will benefit you and the babes, Thorin?”

“You may,” Bilbo said. “I’ll make sure he keeps to it.”

“The children are half-Hobbit, so I think it’d be wise to eat as often as you can.” Bilbo nodded. “With plenty of fruits, vegetables, and protein. No alcohol, but milk in the morning and plenty of water.”

“How about tea and coffee?” Bilbo asked.

“Both should be fine. And no smoking,” Elrond added. Thorin wrinkled his nose. Bilbo patted his hand. “For both of you.”

Thorin and Bilbo winced. Both were fairly heavy smokers.

“For how long?”

“Just until the babes are born. And after, if you insist, I would not do so around the children.” The long suffering sigh both of them emitted elicited a dry chuckle from Elrond.

“Healers are sadistic,” Bilbo muttered.

“We have to be,” Elrond said. “Otherwise patients would do whatever they wished and likely worsen their condition. We want the little ones to be healthy throughout their lives from now to the end.”

Bilbo shrugged and Thorin sat up, grabbing his tunic.

“Twins. Such a rarity indeed!”

“Among Dwarves maybe.”

Thorin nodded. “Dis will likely let the people know.”

“She would. As would the nephews.”

“I ought also to clarify that unless Fili wishes it, Frerin will not take the throne.”

“Fili’s of age and ready for the throne if need be, anyway,” Bilbo reminded him. “Neither of our babes need worry about it if you do not wish it, love.”

Thorin hummed. “I’m going to go write them.”

“Would you like me to tell Nori so you can get to that letter?” Thorin nodded. “Wonderful! And Thorin?”

“Yes?”

Bilbo pressed their lips together. “Mahal and Yavanna know I love you. I adore you, Thorin. And being here, with you, and with the babies on the way…It is like they have blessed me after all I went through. Thank you, sweetheart, for coming after me.”

Thorin pressed his forehead to Bilbo’s. “I will always follow you and I will always find you, _amrâlimê_. I never wanted you to think I did not love you. It will always break my heart that you ever thought that.”

“I promise to use my words if it happens again. I expect not, but you never know.”

Thorin swallowed. “It will not,” he vowed, “by what power I have left, it will not.”

#

_Dear Thorin,_

_First of all, I offer my deepest congratulations! I never thought I’d be an aunt especially given your age now. Fili and I discussed it, and we have come up with an excellent solution:_

_Your Frerin will be his heir when the time comes and Kili gladly agreed to be regent if anything happens to Fili before Frerin’s of age. As for the council, they are in an uproar at this decision. Thankfully most of them will be dead and gone and the kingdom will be able to get used to the idea of a Dwobbit on the throne of Erebor._

_I think this will lead to some radical changes in both the Shire and all the seven kingdoms. I wish you luck and warn you that at least half of the company is on their way to Rivendell right this moment._

_All the best,_

_Dis_

_Dear Uncle Thorin,_

_A letter is not enough to convey how excited Kili and I are to have cousins. I wish I could be there, but Kili will be leading a small portion of the company to join you. Dwalin wishes to go, so he’s appointing his best guards to keep watch over Mother and me while we’re gone. Funnily enough, Dori is one of them._

_I’m not surprised. He sent word to Nori, I think, and has made sure that Ori, who will also be going as well as Bofur, is properly armed this time around and threatened all three of them—Bofur, Dwalin, and Kili—that if anything should befall Ori, they will wish they were never a thought in their mams’ minds._

_I’m sure Ori will be fine. Dwalin and he are far too lovey-dovey for their own good (Kili’s words, not mine). I hope one day you and Bilbo will return with two little bairns. Maybe more! I will not say no to more cousins at all!_

_I had wished you’d be able to return for the coronation, but I guess that won’t happen now. We’ll tell you about it after it happens. And just so you know, Uncle, a place on the council will be yours if you wish it to be. Your guidance would be much appreciated in the least._

_With love,_

_Fili_


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild pre-smut smut toward the end

~Ten Years Later~

The doors to the throne room swung open to admit the family that had just arrived. The King on his throne jumped up and ran to them. He embraced the Dwarf first, pressing foreheads together.

“Welcome home, Uncle Thorin.” He then greeted his other uncle. “And you, Uncle Bilbo.”

“It is good to be back,” Bilbo said. A head poked from behind his back and another from Thorin’s. “Frerin, Jasmin, come out and meet your cousin,” Bilbo added, nudging the little girl from behind him. Jasmin stepped over and Fili knelt.

“Hello Jasmin,” he said. “Welcome to Erebor.”

“Are you a prince?”

“I was a prince a few years ago. I am a king now. See?” he pointed at his crown. “But to you and your brother, I am your cousin.”

“Does that make us a prince and princess? Papa and Adad said it does.”

“They are right. You are a princess and your brother a prince.”

“I’m older than Frerin,” Jasmin said. “By five whole minutes.”

“Hmm,” Fili said, stroking his beard. “Are you saying that you should be queen under the mountain after my rule comes to an end?”

“Yes.”

“She is definitely Dis’ niece,” Thorin said. “Frerin, come out and say hello.” Frerin pressed his face to Thorin’s leg and peeked at Fili, who laughed.

“Don’t worry Frerin. My brother Kili was the same at your age.”

“You know Kili?!” The twins gasped, eyes lighting up.

“Of course I know Kili,” Fili said. “He’s my little brother.” Frerin moved away from Thorin, inching toward Fili and Jasmin. “Would you like to meet your Auntie?”

“I heard that she was a mean dragon witch,” Jasmin said. “Is that true?” He laughed and Bilbo turned to Thorin, arching a brow.

“Depends on the day,” Fili said seriously. He stood and held his hands out to them. Once he had one twin holding onto each hand, he looked at Bilbo and Thorin. “Is it okay with you?”

“Yes,” Thorin said, “It might calm her down before she attacks us. And we could use a break.”

“I’m sure. Come on. I’ll introduce you to Auntie Dis.”

“Is she your Momma?” Frerin asked.

“Yes, she is.”

Thorin and Bilbo exchanged glances and snickered. Fili was in for a rough day. The twins, once comfortable with unknown people, were hellish.

“How’s the little one?”

Thorin touched his belly. “Not bothering me, that is for sure. And have I thanked you for agreeing to have him in a mountain?”

“At least ten times a week,” Bilbo said, linking his arm around Thorin’s. “Now that the journey is over, you need to rest. Besides, if Frerin is going to be king under the mountain, it’s best that he lives in the mountain.”

“By Mahal’s forge! I carried those two! I think I can handle another bloody pregnancy without your hovering.”

“Too bad. Hover I shall. Isn’t that right, Frodo?”

“Naming him already?”

“It’s a good name.”

Thorin hummed deeply. “Frodo Baggins does seem more traditional for your family.”

“If we have a fourth child…”

“If it’s a girl.”

“I know, but if we have fourth _son_ , he can have a Dwarfen name.”

“I doubt it. We’re old, Bilbo. It was miraculous I had the twins, let alone this one.” He placed his hand over his belly and the guards opened the door for them. Bilbo thanked them and once the doors had closed again, he took Thorin’s hands in his.

“I know it is a miracle,” he said, kissing Thorin’s hands. “And I know each child we have from now on will be a miracle. I want to have as many children with you before this miracle ends. Please?”

“Quite the change of mind.”

“I’m not my father. Each time I see them smile and laugh, I know that now and by the Green Lady, I am grateful that I’m not letting his influence extend to our little Dwobbits.” Thorin kissed his forehead and sat down, pulling Bilbo into his lap to capture his lips with his own.

“When were we last alone?”

Bilbo hummed. “Rivendell, I think, during the twins’ check up with Elrond. If I recall that is where we got this little one,” He placed his hand over Thorin’s belly before sliding off his lap and pushing his knees apart. “Three or four months…too long.”

“Not much time on the road.”

“No indeed. Especially with Jasmin and Frerin.” He worked the fly open and pulled Thorin’s cock free. He looked up, swirling his tongue around the head of his cock. Thorin’s breath hitched as Bilbo closed his lips around the head and sucked.

Thorin’s hips bucked. “Bedroom,” he ordered.

Bilbo released him and led him to the bedroom. Once the door closed, Thorin lifted him up and tossed him onto the bed before straddling Bilbo’s waist and kissing him, pinning his hands above his head.

“Am I not allowed to touch my husband?” Bilbo asked, pouting. Thorin smirked and rolled his hips, rubbing their groins together.

“Not this time,” Thorin purred, leaning down for a kiss.

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not expect it to end this way...  
> If anyone wants a sequel, let me know


End file.
